Yanille Ablaze (Delarn Book 3)
by Duriwolfo
Summary: After trying to escape the mistakes he made in Ardougne, Ray finds himself fleeing to Yanille. Though he intends to start his life anew he finds that it's not so simple as that as things from his former life arises.
1. Try Again

**This is the third book of the Delarn Series, both found on this account  
The first is **_**Fragments of Delarn**_

 **The second is** _ **Ray in Ardougne**_

Ray didn't know what to think of Yanille when he first saw it. It seemed so far away from everything with the Feldip Hills where the ogres live so close, but at the same time the tall walls, so close together, reminded him a lot of Falador. He found the wizard tower to be more foreboding than he had ever imagined. It felt like an eye was always on him as he walked through those gates. The guards watched him suspiciously for a moment before calling out to him.

"What are you doing here?" He called, not seeming to trust that he was there for a good reason, but also not overtly stopping him either.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just here for work. I came from Ardougne." He tried not to make a face when he mentioned Ardougne, unsure if he should have at all, but there were very few likely ways he could have ended up here otherwise, not unless he came by sea, and that was the last thing he wanted to be known for.

The guard grunted, seeming to be satisfied with that, motioning for him to continue on his way. Ray didn't know what he was going to do or where he was going to stay in Yanille. He wasn't sure how to take care of himself if he was honest, always seeming to rely on others when it came down to it. He supposed he did live on his own in his home in Taverley for a time, but this felt different. In Taverley they adored him, whether or not he was a wolf, but here he was a stray, or possibly a felon.

He didn't know where to begin, so he started by going to the local general store. He figured it would be the best place to pick up information on the area. He walked in, and there was a young man, little more than a boy, there manning the shop. He looked up and looked wary of him, but didn't say anything more than, "Can I help ya, sir?"

"I was hoping for a bit of information on the area. Maybe get to know some of the work here," he answered, looking around the shop slowly.

"You're a big fella, aintcha?" The boy replied, looking him up and down. "There's them ogres to the south that's always threatening us. Maybe you want to be a guard?"

Ray, remembering his time in Falador, rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He didn't think he would enjoy that too much and was already shaking his head at the thought of being a part of a unit like that.

"Ah yeah, one of those guys. Well, you look all messed up like you've been in the woods a whole lot. Think you might be interested in the hunting shop maybe? You look like the type," the boy told him.

Ray started to respond, but he was interrupted as a man, likely the owner of the shop and maybe even the boy's father, walked in the door. He was carrying a few heavy bags, but the moment he saw Ray he practically dropped them and moved to get between him and the boy.

"What business do you have here?" The man asked, his bristling mustache twitching with each word, "I haven't seen you around these parts before." He eyed Ray up and down, and he suddenly got the impression that he must look particularly ragged and haggard to get such a response from a shopkeeper.

"Aw, pa," the boy said, "he's just some sort of homeless person or adventurer or somethin' like that. He's looking for work."

"Well, he's not finding it here," he said, before amending what he said and saying quickly, "not that your business isn't welcome, but I like to know the people I'm employing before they start working for me. That tower attracts all the strange types, and I don't want anything happening to my shop or my boy. Understand?"

"Completely," Ray answered complacently, awkwardly running his hands through his hair, suddenly self-conscious as he wondered just how disheveled and homeless he actually looked.

"Good," the shopkeeper replied hesitantly, seeming to regret his treatment suddenly. "Do you have any business here, then?"

Ray searched his pockets and frowned, shaking his head apologetically, and the shopkeeper just seemed to get surlier as he continued, "Then head away then. We don't want any funny business here."

He nodded quickly, backing out, the boy calling to him, "Later, Mister!"

Ray quickly backed out of the shop, feeling a bit sheepish and wondering once more just how he looked to him to warrant such a poor reaction.

As he walked away, he considered the boy's advice and decided that checking the hunting shop for work wouldn't hurt all that much. He knew that wolves were natural hunters so he imagined it couldn't be much different than that, though he wasn't too accustomed to catching his own food, let alone making traps.

It was getting later in the day as well, so he was starting to feel desperate for some kind of shelter or at least the promise of work in the morning, though he had to admit that he didn't think it was entirely off the table to sleep outside for the night. Even so, if he could find a bed to sleep in rather than the field, he wouldn't pass it up.

He realized that he didn't bother to ask for directions, and he doubted he would get any with the way the shopkeeper had rushed him away. It wasn't hard for them to be suspicious of newcomers when Ardougne was still bleeding, still giving off news of an enemy that couldn't be found. It was merely luck that the news of what they were looking for didn't match his description by the time it reached Yanille. By the time it did, it was far too big to be deadbeat, filthy cur like him.

And that's how he felt. The guilt that he felt for what happened in Ardougne felt like it might eat him alive, might turn him inside out, but the search for work was enough to keep his mind off of it.

It wasn't hard for him to find the hunter shop anyway. It had a distinct scent that he didn't expect, and his stomach was twisting and turning even as he went in. It was still open according to the sign in the front, but when he stepped in there wasn't anyone there. He didn't really understand why his heart was beating so fast.

He looked at the things that were hanging on the walls, and he saw that they were traps made of sharp metal and well-oiled leather that stung his nose. The scents in the shop were louder to him than actual noise, and the entire place had the distinct odor of metal, leather, old fur, and decay. He bumped against tables and shelves filled with various decoys, spears, and bottles filled with hormones and piss that made his sensitive nose scream with panic as he tried to make sense of it all.

He rushed for the door, overwhelmed, but a man entered at that moment. He had sharp eyes, a scraggly beard, and a crooked grin as he looked Ray up and down, grunting, "What're you here for? Anything in mind?"

Ray shook his head quickly and tried to squeeze past him, but the man stopped him with an open palm to the chest, holding him in place with surprising strength. He had a wheezing laugh as he growled, "What? You come into the wrong place? Didja expect somethin' different? Let me get a good look at you, lad." His sharp little eyes bore holes into Ray's and the laugh got worse as he mocked, "squirrely, ain'tcha? What were you lookin' for, then?"

"Nothing," Ray rasped, trying to get around him again, just to be stopped by another heavy shove on his chest.

The man took out a thick hunting knife from his belt, wickedly sharp and serrated. "Do ye know what this is for, lad?" He held it up to Ray's eyes and answered himself, "it's for snoopy little bastards and strays that get too close to my shop that don't have no business bein' there."

Ray gulped as it came plenty close enough for him to get a good look at it. He made a strangled noise before the man stuck it back on his belt. A moment later, hounds that were kept in the back began baying angrily and loudly, and it was enough for Ray to finally successfully hurtle around him and back out on the street, and he didn't stop until he could no longer hear that rasping laugh.

After he felt a bit silly, knowing that he probably made it out to be worse than it was and that he probably looked like a fool to two different businesses in Yanille now. He leaned against the wall and tried to compose himself, trying to think of a good place to stay for the night and wondering if he could risk wasting coin on a room in the local pub, or if he should even show his face there after his first day.

He didn't have long to think on it, however, as at least four wizards suddenly appeared and surrounded him, all pointing various wands and staves at him. His eyes were wide and terrified as the one in front strolled forward and asked him, "Would you happen to be Ray Faewulf?"

"Aye," he replied drily, expecting the worse.

"Oh, good. Come along with me," he replied. The man held out his hand, and Ray, glancing at the other wizards, didn't see much of a choice, and so he took his hand. The next moment he and the other wizards were gone.


	2. Long Hall

Ray usually felt a twinge of nausea whenever he was teleported, especially when he wasn't the one doing the teleporting. He couldn't deny after almost dying the last time, after needing to teleport himself quickly while also maintaining a heat resistance spell, definitely gave him a bit of anxiety about the whole thing.

For the moment, however, he found he was alone in a room with a small bed that was little more than a cot, a plain dresser with a small mirror over it, a writing desk and a wardrobe. None of it seemed all that spectacular, but he didn't think much of it. If he had to guess, he might assume that this was a holding cell of some sort, though he hadn't seen one before without bars. If it really was, then it was one of the nicer ones, and he was grateful. If it was an average room, however, then it was one of the more boring ones that he had stayed in, but he didn't consider that a bad thing as he sat on the bed until his stomach settled. He itched his arms lightly, feeling momentarily as if they were burnt, though he knew there were no actual burns there at all. Just the remnants of dull scars.

He felt anxious at first, but after a while and after deciding that there was no good way to tell how long he would be there or if they would even see him that night he finally just laid down. He didn't intend to fall asleep as soon as he did, but when he opened his eyes again, a young man was lightly shaking him. "Sir, it's time to wake up. They want to talk to you."

Ray blinked groggily, and stared back at him, trying to piece together where he was before it snapped back into place. He sat up and nodded, shaking out his hair a bit. He felt particularly unkempt, and the young man quickly noticed how much he was toying with his hair.

"There should be a brush in the dresser there," he told him, "just for you to use. I'll wait outside the door for you if you'd like to straighten yourself up a bit, but please don't take too long. I'm pretty sure they'll take care of the worst of it after they talk to you."

He nodded and replied stonily, "I'll be right out then."

He nodded back and gave him an uncertain look before going to stand outside the door like he said, giving Ray one last look before closing the door. Ray blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes, but got up and went to shuffle over to the dresser. He didn't want to take too long as the young man didn't seem to be that bad of a person and he didn't want to cause trouble for him just yet. He figured he might want to figure out why he was here first before he started misbehaving. The floor was simple stone, and he imagined it would be cold on his bare feet, but he had fallen asleep in his shoes, so he didn't' have to worry about that.

Even if the dresser looked plain, he saw that the top could be slid away to reveal a basin that had runes etched into it. He wanted to study it further, but he was also aware that he was keeping the man outside waiting. He slid it back into place and opened the drawer to find the brush. This too was simple, but it was also made well, and he was relieved to be able to comb out his hair properly. There were a few places where it was matted, but he had expected that. He did his best but didn't spend too much time on it. He didn't want to keep the strangers that wanted his attention waiting.

He placed the brush back into the drawer. He hadn't missed the mirror, but until now he tried to ignore it, though he couldn't ignore the fact that he indeed looked like a vagabond, with a scruffy beard, long and messy hair—less messy now—and those eyes. He couldn't decide if his eyes came across as sad or mean or just tired, but he could imagine how they might come across to a man who hadn't seen him before, seeing him talk to a child that he was obligated to keep safe. He snorted. It was no secret to him that most people would consider him dangerous and unpredictable if they knew even half of what he had done in the span of his life. In the last year, even.

Now wasn't the time for reminiscing, and so he went to meet the young man. The door stopped him for a moment. He stared at it, having a strange feeling that he shouldn't touch it or open it without permission. It wasn't a magical inclination, as if the magic of this place was insisting he not move it. No, it was a strange urge that sat under his skin, mocking him.

 _Your master wouldn't like that, would they? If you were meant to go through this door it would already be open, wouldn't it?_

He continued to stare at the door uneasily, his jaw clenched, and he felt himself getting angrier. He felt like he wanted to punch it again and again and scream his lungs out. He lifted his hand, but after a second he took a deep breath and quietly knocked on it. A compromise.

After a moment it opened, and the young man's face was screwed up, a weird frown that could have been a tight smile as he told him, "You know it was unlocked, right?"

Ray's face reddened considerably, and he felt like cussing at him. _Obviously, it was unlocked, but it was closed._ He then took a breath. He couldn't lose his temper. He didn't even know why he was feeling so angry and that made the anger burn worse in his gut.

"Let's just go. Didn't you tell me to hurry for a reason?" Ray spat, annoyed.

The young man's eyes widened, and he wanted to point out that he hadn't intended to rush him at all, and maybe even that he could have told him just to come along without giving him any time, but he saw that Ray was already agitated. In case he had to take care of him in the future he didn't want to make him entirely insufferable to handle so he merely nodded.

"Right, yes," he replied quietly to Ray, going to walk ahead to lead him along. Ray knew that he had come across harsher than he should have, and he regretted it a bit as he was hoping to talk to him and find out a little more about his situation before seeing whoever he was being taken to see, though now it felt more natural to just follow him in silence. Already the tower seemed to make him dizzy and disoriented even if the passages seemed straightforward. It appeared like they were walking down a straight hall, taking a turn and then going up some stairs, but it felt more like they were taking twenty different turns and going up and down various staircases that didn't even necessarily go up and down. Ray thought he was insane more than once during this journey.

The young man, despite being wary of him now, hazarded to say, "Sorry about all this. As a defense, the tower tends to have a strange effect on outsiders. It was like that the first time I was here as well, but if you're meant to stay here they'll add you to a list that will state that you," he paused, not wanting to say 'belong to the tower' as it sounded possessive, though it was basically what it meant. He didn't know much about Ray, but he did know that Ray behaved like a caged animal as it was so he didn't want to make him any more nervous than he already was. "That you live here," he finished, finding that was just as accurate.

Ray was relieved that he had spoken to him first, as he was starting to feel guilty for reacting the way he did, and replied hesitantly, "Do you have any idea why I was brought here? I was hoping to find out before they talked to me so I would know what to expect. Also, my name is Ray, and I was wondering what your name might be." He appeared immediately embarrassed and flustered.

The young man seemed to relax visibly, glad that Ray seemed to be acting less hostile towards him. He replied, "I don't really know all the details, but I do know that it's probably not what you have in mind. I don't think they intend to do you any harm and I don't even think they're going to keep you here if you don't want to be. If I had to guess, I would say that someone sent in a recommendation letter for you. Oh, and my name is Glen."

"Glen," Ray repeated under his breath so it would be easily to remember. "Recommendation letter?"

"Well," he explained, "often people will either come here on their own with some sort of research to present in order to join the guild and obtain either the right to study here or the right to be recognized officially. That, or someone already recognized and in good standing will send in a recommendation letter along with a student or colleague they believe to deserve a place in the guild, or at the very least a hearing to see if they're worthy. My teacher, Ostraz did that for me, and I'm currently studying the effects of salt water compared to clear water when operating spells and if different rune combinations work better depending on the salt levels." He smiled a bit, and Ray gave an encouraging nod.

"I would love to hear more about that if you wouldn't mind after this is all settled, but I still don't understand why they would think something like that about me. I can't help but think that-"

He stopped talking as he suddenly began to wonder if Glen was actually who he said he was or trying to convince him to say something he shouldn't.

Glen, not at all aware of what Ray was thinking, turned to look at him for a moment, confused as he replied, "think what?"

He looked away when he saw the awful look that Ray was giving him, feeling a bit uneasy again as Ray replied, "Nothing. It's probably what you said. A recommendation letter of some sort." Still, that didn't make sense to him. There was no one in the world alive that could possibly do something like that for him, and especially not someone that knew that he was in Yanille.

It didn't occur to him that Telago was still alive, or that if he was that he was still concerned with him or his whereabouts. It wouldn't have made sense to him even if he had known.

Their conversation had once more awkwardly tapered off, and though they weren't far, it was a quiet walk until they arrived at a pair of double doors. He quietly told him, "I can't go in with you, but they're expecting you in there. Do you want me to open the doors for you?"

Ray had been eyeing the doors uneasily before glancing over at Glen and nodding, sure that Glen thought he was an ogre in human skin or something like that, though the young man didn't comment on it as he opened the door for him and Ray went through.

Sitting there were three wizards. The one in the middle was hard to identify. It was wrinkly and didn't have any particular features, but their voice was an old woman's voice, sounding much like a shrill, crackly bird as she said, "Ah, the young newcomer has arrived."

The one to the right of her was an old man with grey hair sticking out of his ears and a stereotypical, pointy wizard hat sitting on his head. He crossed his arms like a sulky child as he muttered, "About time."

The one to the left looked incredibly young, but he didn't feel young even if his movements were those of vivacious youth. He sat forward and replied, "It's fine, Reffalk, it's fine. Look at him. Quite an interesting one, though he's either doltish or brilliant. Think there's anything in-between for this one?"

Ray simply rocked back on his heels and cleared his throat as he said, "Is there a reason I'm here?"

The young-looking one laughed, and the old one grumbled, but the woman spoke up and said, "There's a reason everyone is here, and we're going to find out yours here and now."


	3. Purposes

Ray appeared confounded by what she had said, not quite understanding, though he thought it sounded much like what the old woman in Ardougne had told him. Or perhaps he was overthinking it. Maybe she only meant the reason why he was here which would make just as much sense to him.

"Why _am I_ here, ma'am?" He replied awkwardly. "I don't know anyone that would recommend me, nor do I have any research that I seek to expand upon. Are there any other reasons for me to be here?"

"The things that brought you to come here aren't important," she responded. "It's what things you're meant to be here for that are important. Whether or not you know the reason you arrived doesn't weigh much compared to the fact that you're actually here."

"Did you end up here because you were meant to be here, or that because you're here something is meant to happen?" the old man, Reffalk according to the young one, said. "Are you a catalyst we should be wary of, or a warning sign of something that cant be prevented?"

"I think he's a clever little one," the young man laughed gleefully. "I think he's a funny little toy for beings bigger than us all. A cruel writer brought him here, and surely they regret what they've done to such a small vessel. Doesn't quite live up to the name, does he?"

"Ray?" The old woman said.

"Faewulf?" The old man said.

"De-Delarn," the young man said, chittering. "De-De-De-De-larn!"

The two others appeared troubled, or as troubled as their wrinkly faces could manage. Finally, Reffalk coughed irritably, "well, he better. He better live up to what the fates have brought to him when he's been brought to our guild and our magic."

"The magic isn't ours alone," the old woman answered. "We are merely its heralds. We are merely containers and conduits for the magic."

"Speak for yourselves," the young man giggled. "I think this young man knows a hair more about what it means to be a conduit than he lets on. Tell me, was there a time when your emotions exceeded your runes? Do you regret it?"

"Terribly," Ray found himself saying, appearing a bit shaky, unsure if he was even supposed to still be standing there when they were talking about him like this.

"You weren't meant to live this long, so it's okay," he told him with a pleased smile. "The fact that you did is simply a sign of how resilient someone like you can be. Someone who was chosen to drive all this along like this, and yet here you are. The talking could go on forever, and you could do nothing to stop it. Not a single thing. Not with wit and not with that red fang."

"What are you prattling on about, Ronvile?" The old man exploded, and this only made the young one's laughter worst.

"Are you saying that this person doesn't have any direction because he's not meant to be alive?" The old woman murmured.

"Oh no," he answered. "He's definitely, definitely supposed to live now. He's always been expected to live simply from his role alone, isn't he? Whenever something happens in which he could very much have died it's felt wrong, hasn't it? What would you say, Ray? Tell Hallana that you're glad to be alive so that we can settle that."

"Well," Ray answered softly, "I don't really know. I think all my efforts have come to show that I'm more a hindrance than anything else. I don't feel as if I've done anything worth living for. If anything I'm alive because I'm afraid to die."

"That's the curse of having a fate," Reffalk reflected, "but there must be a reason that you're here. Did you expect to simply wander the halls forever?"

"I didn't really think about it. I didn't really consider that I was supposed to be here at all, but I also don't feel as if there's anywhere else in the world that I should be more," he answered quietly.

"Then I think the first thing you should do is to study what you love. You should figure out what it is that really interests you, and expand from there," The old woman, Hallana answered.

"I think you should find the reason that you were brought to us. I think you should find the great evil to vanquish that you obviously came here for and vanquish it. Are you a warning or a catalyst, boy?" Reffalk decided.

"I think you should find out what you're really made of," Ronvi, the young one, told him. "I think you should give in to the demons that consume you and face them. You're not human or wolf, are you? You're the best of both, and both can help you if you can just figure it out. Are you a smart boy? A clever girl?" His tone was teasing, his eyes looking at him as if he could see it all. Hallana didn't seem capable of turning her head, so Raffalk seemed to turn his head to regard Ronvi with extra vigor and exaggeration for the both of them. The young man merely laughed and continued, "Shall we make our new scholar a member of the guild then?"

The old man grumbled, his eyebrows knitting together and the old woman didn't seem to say anything for an uncomfortably long time before finally, Raffalk answered, "Yes, it should be done."

For a moment Ray seemed to be held in place as they began to chant, and though it felt like he should be scared or nervous when he didn't know what they were doing or what they intended with him, it merely made him curious, so he stood still and allowed it to happen. By the time they were finished a visible beam had converged between the three of them to cross where he was standing, seeming to go through him. Ronvi seemed to giggle in delight as he was aware that the curiosity that allowed him to stand his ground before them was also a significant weakness of his, and it was a terrible irony indeed.

After they were done, he swayed and blinked strangely at them. He mainly paid attention to Ronvi who was plain in his sight, though his near-sightedness made everything else there blurry. Hallana told him plainly, "this was to allow you to move through the guild freely, though any studying wizards will be able to prevent you from entering their quarters, as is their right-as well as yours if you wish for privacy. If you should act in a way that should challenge the guild and make it clear that you intend to be a threat to us, it is just as easy to make the effects of the premises return and confuse your senses once more."

"And often," Raffalk added, "this spell will have the side effect of causing the person it was used on to suffer from or benefit from intense visions and dreams the first night or so, which I'm sure will assist in your glorious adventure to stop whatever dark being that brought you here."

"Or find the subject that you're meant to study," Hallana cut in, her voice almost sharp as if to reprove Raffalk.

By this point, Ray expected the third to add his bit as well, but the young man was mysteriously quiet now despite how Ray was looking directly at him. Maybe it was the amount of attention he was giving him—he did seem somewhat shy now—but even as Ray looked away toward the other two, he still didn't speak. He felt confused, and Hallana cut in as if she was now annoyed with Ray, telling him, "That's all you need to know for now. If you're required, we'll call on you to check on your progress. Go on now."

Ray gave Ronvile one last look, almost feeling disappointed, but he studiously seemed uninterested in him now and so Ray, not wanting to bother the other two further as Raffalk was starting to bristle again, turned on his heels and went to leave. The moment he stepped out, he felt strangely familiar with the guild, or at least with the places he had already been, and even felt as if he could find his way back to his room himself, though Glen was still waiting outside the room for him.

"So what did they tell you? Which one of them talked to you? The man or the woman?" Glen asked, his eyes wide and curious. "Did you find out why you're here?"

The wizard quelled for a moment, taking Ray's confused expression to be one of his previous agitations, and only grew more confused as Ray answered, "There were three, and they all talked to me. Did the young one join recently?"

"Young one?" Glen answered, appearing immediately flummoxed. "You have to be practically eighty to even think about being their peer, let alone actually having the skill to be allowed in the same room as them during the integration spell—besides being the member integrated, of course—and you're saying there was a young man in there?"

Ray shrugged sulkily and replied, "I don't know, but he was definitely in there. They interacted with him and everything and treated him like an equal. Maybe even a better."

Glen stared a bit longer before he replied, "This is your way of trying to prove that you have a sense of humor after all, isn't it? Or are you trying to cover for yourself or something like that? Is it because you know most of the wizards that the old man chooses tends to be misfits of some sort? Are you trying to hide that he's your master in the house?"

"What?" Ray answered, appearing agitated that he was implying that he was lying to prove that he wasn't weird. "You know more about this than I do, and I definitely didn't only speak with one of them. If anything the young one talked to me the most."

"Look, stop trying to be some inflated character or something," Glen answered, though he was a bit wary again as he could see that dark cloud of anger rising on Ray's face again. "People often are confused and dizzy when they first come out of the integration spell, and you seem particularly pale. Why don't we just get you back to your room, and you can take a nap and tell me all about your _very_ important dreams when you wake up, alright?"

"Definitely nothing as important as water moving from one container to the other or ocean waves crashing over a waterfall," Ray muttered bitterly, not appreciating being treated like a liar or a madman that needed to be tucked in. Glen flushed, and it was clear that he was caught between being flattered that Ray seemed to remember what he said about his research and being mocked for what he specialized in when Ray was trying to make himself appear more important.

"I was hoping for a quiet life here," Ray added in annoyance, going to walk past him towards his room. Glen stared at him before shuffling after him, not wanting to be responsible if he got into something he shouldn't, especially since he seemed to behave like someone that would.

"Oh, good, your room," Glen commented once they arrived a moment later, his arms folded.

"Yes, mine. I feel too tired right now to see what you're working on, but I'll be sure to come by," Ray snorted, imagining that Glen would never want to see him again, "if you still want to show me."

"What do you think you're going to gain from looking at my research," Glen retorted, suddenly feeling paranoid about what Ray expected from him, and vaguely wondering if he meant to steal his work.

"I don't know, really. I thought it would be interesting, but I guess I can leave you alone also," he answered, slamming the door on him. Both men proved to be confused about how they felt about the other once the door was closed between them.


	4. Forest Dream

Ray slipped deep into sleep.

The wolf awoke in a deep and primordial forest, the scents that it could smell long forgotten, clean from human interference. The wolf hungered, and so it went to seek food. It was not long before it came upon the scent of prey and it followed it for quite some time, moving between trees and around ancient pools that were clear like glass. The wolf thirsted for nothing but the life-sustaining blood, and so it did not pause for these.

Before long it came upon a clearing in the forest with sweet grass, a meadow that broke the treeline. There waited a stag, tall and proud, thousands of points stretching into the sky. In the world above the wolf may fear this beast. The Lyalltines knew creatures like these, but they had sharp teeth and a taste for blood unlike the deer we know—the people of the forest—and those who knew the deer as a deer would respect it and search elsewhere for one more likely to give under the hunt. In this forest, however, this was a challenge that the wolf didn't care to deny.

They stared at each other, each giving and taking in the way that they responded, the wolf skittering back at the shake of the stag's head, and the stag scuffing the earth as the wolf edged closer, teeth showing. The grass waved as if a soft breeze blew through the meadow, but no such breath was felt, though the sweet grass and flowers and blood scented clearly.

The moment was sudden and hard to predict, though both knew it instinctively, and the moment the stag began to rush from the meadow into the woods on the other side the wolf gave chase, speeding after the great stag. From the sight of it in the meadow, one might think that its magnificent antlers would catch on the branches, but the stag moved elegantly, dancing and prancing around trees, flying effortlessly over great roots and through clinging branches that brushed its back like an old friend.

In the same way, the wolf was untroubled with the underbrush, the deceptive ponds, and brambles that waited on the forest floor. They raced each other forever, it seemed, the wolf never appearing to gain any ground, or else managing to run alongside the stag though not quite able to get ahold of it. Though hunger gnawed at the wolf upon seeking the stag, now the joy of the hunt was enough, and the wolf and the stag would love to tirelessly traverse the forest forever. They passed great lakes, scented oceans without seeing a drop of salt, traveled over high ridges, mountains, and through deep valleys, the trees coming and going, the seasons changing heedlessly as if time too raced with the wolf and the stag.

Suddenly, almost inevitably, the end arrived. The wolf witnessed the great stag reach the edge of the path, powerful legs pushing against the edge of the threshold of the cliff it raced for before falling long and hard to hit the bottom below.

The wolf stared forlornly at the edge, seeing the sun on one side of the sky and the moon on the other, taking in the memory as it played again and again, tail down. It then went to seek out the stag, to speak harshly to it perhaps for ending their competition in such a way that didn't make it feel like a victory, or maybe to compliment it on such an sophisticated end that spared the pride of a beast that served to cull the sick and weak to keep the people healthy. There was no shame in keeping sickness and starvation for all away.

But when the wolf arrived, the bear was there, already partaking in the broken and the dead—though in this forest the dead would return to begin the hunt again endlessly, for the joy of life was too splendid. The wolf felt shame heat fur anew, and the two argued and screamed at each other in sharp barks and enraged roars, though the wolf knew that those great paws held great power and could settle any argument. This didn't stop the wolf from biting and snipping at the shoulder, fur, and flank as it circled again and again before taking one too many passing strikes and sulkily going to settle to the side to lick wounds. The wolf waited and rested until the bear finally finished and decided what it wanted before going away again, and the wolf knew this wouldn't be the last time it and brother bear would argue over a kill.

Once the bear had its fill and went away, the wolf shared with the birds of the sky that equally waited to be fed, massive black birds that similarly tried to convince the wolf to simply relinquish the meal altogether, but the wolf would not have it and forced them to share. The wolf, after gorging, knew that tomorrow it would find the stag waiting for it again in that great meadow, but for now, it was full and sleepy, so it went to find somewhere to sleep.

Only something seemed to be different in the forest today. Something seemed inherently wrong, and so the wolf went to seek out the truth of what this may be. The nervous energy grew and grew until the wolf found brother bear, but now bear cried and shrieked in a way that wolf had never heard from the great beast, no matter how well wolf had fought—and there were some days when wolf did indeed win—and as wolf drew closer the enraged bear swiped at it. It was hurt and scared, and the wolf knew it, could smell it. There was nothing more unnerving than seeing the great bear scared.

The wolf was further confused when it saw what it was that harried the great bear. It was a flower, though the flower had no scent that the wolf had ever smelled before in this forest, harsher than the scent of blood, and the scent of blood was plentiful now.

Each time the wolf tried to separate the sharp petals that dug into the bear's hide like insidious teeth. The bear took another swipe at the wolf, growling lowly, shame as well as fear coming off of it in waves. Even so, each strike grew slower and clumsier as the strength to fight back dwindled until bear no longer struggled against wolf's efforts at all. It felt like years passed before wolf could manage to free that great paw from the foreign flower even so, and longer still before the bear was able to pull away from it. Wolf didn't bother to lecture bear, knowing that it was foreign to wolf as well and the wolf would have equally have reacted poorly to it. Wolf just barely managed to keep its nose from getting clamped in the strange flower after freeing bear also.

Wolf, even after the bear was gone, studied the strange thing. Owl watched with a heavy expression on its face.

"Who?" Wolf asked the owl, and the owl seemed to bristle at wolf's request, but took flight. Wolf followed, though it longed to sleep again, longed to see wolf kind again, as is wolf's nature, but this curiosity drove wolf from the forest all the same.

This was the first time wolf had seen anything even vaguely 'not-forest' even compared to the bare mountaintops and the endless tundras. This place that owl led wolf to felt utterly empty as if no life lived here, and it was strange to the wolf that always knew life.

Wolf, feeling uneasy, did not venture further into this place where life wasn't. Owl had already retreated back into cover, as the owl was rarely of the kind to fear such interference. Wolf, however, would learn just how viciously this place of no life wished to see wolf of like kind.

Wolf ventured deep, deep back in the forest, but could not shake that there was something awry and something that sought after it after it returned after being seen—though there didn't seem to be anyone to see—in that place.

Wolf, when it realized that it was being followed, paused and turned to face the being that was following it. It was strange and carried a thing of wood and the peculiar substance the flower was made of. The wolf did not know the feeling of being hunted, so it did not know how to react when the strange creature pointed at it. The wolf did not know that a creature could use something that it held in such a way, but the fear that came with that first vibration in which solid metal struck into the wood of the tree beside it was enough to drive it like the stag was driven.

There was a sense of great joy, great victory as wolf realized that it could fly through the forest with the great grace of the stag while this strange creature seemed to be held to its clumsiness, and the wolf was confident that it could leave the strange animal far behind.

And then the wolf learned the trickery that this creature utilized, making the forest that the wolf knew all its life strange as well. Where there was once solid ground, the wolf found it was now loose leaves, and barely managed to leap in time to keep the ground from collapsing beneath it. The metal flowers were hidden amongst the foliage, and the clear water was now cloudy with poison, but wolf knew these tricks well by sight and smell.

One trick that wolf did not know that didn't smell like the strange flower was the vine that was tied to catch at paws and tighten, dragging wolf from the earth into the sky. There the wolf struggled, but to no avail, and watched helplessly as the clumsy creature effortlessly and slowly approached, the metal device pointed at beating heart, but the thing it held was no longer a thing of metal, but a long and twisted black wand.

"Are you meant to survive in these lands?" The figure chuffed. "There's no stopping progress. A god like yours is obsolete, and a people like yours born to fail."

The wand glowed red hot, and a beam shot toward the wolf, monochrome fur turning all red as the light drew closer, but the next moment the wolf was no longer in the trap and on the tree, but sitting in a grove in a cave. There was a short table with biscuits and tea on it, and a freckled boy with the legs of a sheep, fluffy and white from the waist down.

He laughed and told the wolf, "We can't win against them, can we? We fae can't stop the march of iron and you wolves can't stop the destruction of the forest, but we can convince them, can't we? We can change their minds, can't we?"

The strange boy grinned and picked up a teacup, but instead of drinking from it himself he held it up to the wolf and murmured, "drink and trust me. Can you trust me? Can you still trust people?"

The wolf appeared a bit confused, not sure how to drink from a container like this at first, but finally lapping up the tea. It tasted like the future and the past, bitter and sweet. It also tasted like the unfathomable forest, where sweet berries grow, and like the crushed crystalline sugar that the wolf didn't hesitate to crunch up as they settled at the bottom of the cup.

"You have to prove that you're still good, though it's not fair that one being will have to represent an entire race, is it? Especially not without knowing it beforehand. What do you know about the skin you wear? What do you know about being human? What do you know about being a wolf? Funny face, do you want more tea?" The boy laughed.

He poured more, but instead of putting the sugar cube in the tea, he offered it to the wolf and the wolf nibbled it out of his hand gladly before drinking the offered tea.

Ray woke up really needing to pee, and his mouth was dry.


	5. Make Friends

Ray, at first, didn't do too much. More often than not there would be food brought to him, though he would never see the server. It was usually something simple, but something he would enjoy eating, such as stew, bread and fruit juice or lemon water. It wasn't a great stretch for him to guess that it was magic rather than an actual person bringing him his food. He also found that he enjoyed sleeping more than anything else as of late. It was simpler for him to indulge in these complicated dreams or else the simple, thoughtless blackness. He found that the nightmares weren't as constant as when he was elsewhere. It wasn't that there weren't disturbing and complicated dreams like with the hunter, but they often didn't feel as if they pertained to him personally. It wasn't like he was dreaming of Beraliska tearing out his guts or fighting urchins for food or fighting against guards that cared more for the Zamorakian symbols stitched to his clothes than the way the clothes were slack and ribs were showing beneath.

He enjoyed the dreams where even in violence it was simple and straightforward and didn't leave him guilty upon waking.

Though no one here bothered to stir him from this hiatus, he nonetheless started to feel the pull to study and explore tugging at him little by little. It started slowly, as wandering about the tower and listening to the other wizards talking amongst themselves—there was always someone talking freely and openly in the tower—to searching for things such as the dining hall. There was an actual place to gather socially, or at the very least out of the room. It requires a little more asking than he was comfortable with so initially he just sat amongst them or rather alongside them. He would often keep his gaze down so he wouldn't accidentally meet anyone's eyes.

He also looked for the libraries, recalling being promised that there would be something like that here. He was relieved to find that this too was easy to find once he started looking for it, and was relieved to see so many books. He didn't know where to begin, so he just started looking through the shelves. Some of it was simple and straightforward, or at the very least they were the types of things that he learned to read and recognize from Telago's library, or at least they were along the same lines. Others were strangely encoded or extraordinarily vague or didn't make any sense even though he could read them. He guessed that some of those that didn't make sense, like the recipe books or the discordant ramblings were encoded as well, and once he was a bit more familiar with magic as a whole he would be able to sort it out.

He was so intent on reading the books that he didn't notice that Glen had walked in. The man was watching him like he had been a mere hallucination that he didn't really believe was actually sitting in front of him, especially when Ray got up and started looking for more books like he was the only existing being in the world, let alone the library. Glen felt almost sentimental watching him, especially since he didn't seem to carry the weight that he showed when he first met him.

"Hey," Glen finally said, "I thought you said that you were going to come to see my research. Were you lying when you said you were interested in it?"

Ray jumped and looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and unease and Glen almost regretted asking until Ray said, "I didn't think you actually wanted me around you, honestly. Would you want to now?" Glen felt further annoyed because he apparently didn't register that he was joking, and seemed to be asking just so he wouldn't sound rude.

"Look, it's not a big deal if you really don't want to," he answered.

"It's not that I don't want to," Ray answered, his voice taking on a sharp edge. "It's just that you surprised me. Do you want to show me or not?"

"Maybe another time," he replied, clearly still bothered. "I'm busy right now. I just came by to pick up a book." He took the nearest book on the nearest shelf and walked away. Ray huffed, not knowing what to make of it and not knowing what to say to that even if he had a chance to.

He kept trying to read, but now the exchange was the only thing on his mind and nothing he was reading made any sense, though he was sure it was before Glen had come along. He grumbled angrily and replaced everything he found on the shelves in neat order, knowing that if he didn't he would feel even more anxious and bothered by the encounter.

He then marched out into the hall, and though he felt like going back to his room, he continued wandering the halls instead. He thought that just locking himself in his room would be childish, even as he hoped he would run into Glen again so they could talk or argue some more. He kept thinking of comebacks and muttering them to himself under his breath.

"I didn't want to see your research anyway."

"I want to see your research, but how good could it be when you have such a terrible attitude."

"Look, I know you were probably just having a bad day. I'm having a bad week. Leave me alone, alright?"

"Well, don't leave me alone. I think we can work this out later when I'm more familiar with everything."

"No, I don't need help. I can find everything on my own, thanks."

"Well, if you're going to be like that then I don't want to even see your research, let alone anything else in this tower."

"Not that I don't want to see it. I just don't think you're being very nice about all this."

"Okay, fine. I'm the jerk too. Happy?"

He was so busy murmuring to himself that he didn't notice that he was also crossing the paths of a woman in long, grey robes consistently. She seemed as absorbed in what she was doing as much as he was, so it wasn't imperative to him at first. Even so, he wasn't nearly as distracted, so it was starting to become obvious that he kept walking past her. It wasn't that she was the only one that he passed, but she was the only one that he kept seeing. Everyone else that passed him seemed to know exactly where they were going.

After so many times of seeing her, and with his mood growing worse and worse by the minute, he was starting to feel paranoid about it. He practically exploded, screaming, "What do you think you're doing?"

His voice boomed louder than he intended, and it even scared him a little. She looked like a pale mouse that he had pinned in his claws as she faced him. He felt hot with embarrassment as he realized that she could have been doing the exact same thing he was for all he knew, and he had only been here a week. She could have been here for a solid decade as far as he knew, though she also looked too young to have been. So had the young man amongst the elders, however.

Before he could figure out a way to apologize or extract himself from the situation, she seemed to step closer to him and whisper, "What do you know about me? Why have you been following me? Is it that obvious?"

"Is...what?" He replied, and she studied his face, the way that his eyes seemed wide and confused now.

"Oh, good," she sighed, and Ray's apparent confusion only grew. "Well, never mind. It's good to see one of the younger students so interested in exploring the place. Most of the others only stay in one place at a time. What's your name, young man?"

"Ray," he answered, the name felt a bit too short to tell—whoever this was. It didn't feel quite right to add anything else to it either.

"Well, Ray, my name is Reeva Swane, and I'm a tutor here. A wandering body is indicative of a wandering mind, and I find that quite impressive. Why don't you and I do some research together? I don't want to make you feel too special, but most days I have students with me, so I don't normally get this sort of one on one time, but today is my day off. I find that I can't concentrate on any sort of relaxation, however, but working helps set me at ease," she told him genially.

"Oh, right," he replied slowly, trying to think of an excuse to excuse himself from the situation, but the more he thought about the rarity of it the more appealing it seemed. He figured that she might help him figure out a goal for himself.

"Right, then lead the way. We should head to the library. Do you know where the library is?" She asked.

"I was just there," he replied awkwardly, knowing that had to be at least an hour ago. He waited a moment, expecting her to lead him to the library, but she just stared at him. He guessed that maybe he should be the one leading. The idea of doing that made his skin crawl, but even now she was staring into his soul, and that was twice as disconcerting. Wizards seemed to have a good grasp on that.

He went ahead, and before long they were in the library. He had walked particularly fast, feeling uncomfortable with the way she practically clung to him.

She looked amazed and pleased once they arrived, and after a moment walked past him and started gathering books and stacking them on a table. She sat down and started reading them voraciously as if the slightest amount of knowledge from these books fascinated her. He thought she had brought him along to teach him, but she seemed to just be doing research. She thought that maybe she changed her mind, but he felt too awkward to just leave, so he stayed there and waited patiently.

He wasn't sure how long this went on, but after a while, he murmured softly, "Miss Swane?"

When she looked up, he expected her to be angry, but she just looked confused as if she had forgotten his existence. She then seemed to remember why he was there to begin with. "Oh, right," she said, motioning to the spot beside her, smoothing down her long, straight blonde hair as she added, "It'll be easier for you to see it from here."

"Oh, alright," he replied, awkwardly clambering out of his seat and going to sit beside her. He left a good amount of space between them, and she didn't seem bothered by it.

"What kind of magic do you specialize in?" She inquired, scanning the pages again.

"Well, I've had particular luck or lack of with fire," he replied haltingly, itching at the side of his nose, trying to discern if he should change his story altogether, or be entirely honest.

"Fire is known for purging things, though people tend to not like it when it's happening. Fire...fire." She started to trail off as she began reading again, and it was quite some time before she acknowledged him once more.

"Right, well anyway," she said as he was starting to doze off, "I think you're good with transformations. I think you would be perfect for that sort of thing."

"Thanks?" He replied slowly.

She nodded and closed the books, tucking them away in her bag. "Take me to the cafeteria."

"Oh? What?" He replied. "I thought you were going to teach me."

"Food is an important part of any research," she replied gravely. "You should get something to eat too."

"Are we going to meet after this?" He replied.

"Let's get something to eat," she replied, getting up and going to the door, and then looking back at him impatiently.

He didn't know what to say to that, so he got up and went to stand beside her. She started staring at him again until he took the lead. He was surprised to see it empty when they got there. There wasn't anyone there at all, but that didn't seem to stop the food from being distributed. She finally took the lead herself and got two think sandwiches. He followed her and sat down across from her again.

She started to eat one of them, the other on a plate beside her elbow. She seemed to notice that he was staring at her now and finally passed the other sandwich over to him. "Oh, here."

He raised her eyebrows at her, and she mentioned off-handedly, "It's about 11:24 at night, I would say. That's after the normal crowd leaves, and a bit before those really late night stragglers get here. A perfect time, really."

He nodded and started eating. While he was in the middle of eating, she stood up and started getting her bag, and it was clear she was leaving. He swallowed a few times, and she was just about to walk away when he said, "Miss Swane, or Reeva, whichever, what are you doing here?"

"Same as you," she replied. "I'm a tutor. I hope you have better retention than that or I won't be able to use you."

"You're not though. A tutor. At least you're not supposed to be here, are you? That's why you—"

"Yes, hush," she replied. "Hush, hush."

"Are you at least a good person?" He asked, his voice low.

"Define good people," she replied, looking all around in case someone might be listening.

"Are you planning to use me to kill people? Do you want to harm people? Do you or do you not care if people die?" He answered, his tone low.

She looked at him for a long time, his first question catching her off guard as if it didn't occur to her that he could be used like that, especially for her. The second one seemed to stump her as well. After a moment she answered plainly, "No."

"Are you lying?" He asked her.

"No," she replied, turning her back to him and standing there for a long while before walking away. He considered that for a moment, especially his third question, and went back to eating his sandwich, not sure if he liked it or if he should have got his own. He had never tried pastrami before.


	6. Personal Space

Ray slept in the next morning. His head was too full with thoughts from the night before, trying to guess at what Reeva Swane was planning. After a long, long night he figured the best conclusion was that it wasn't any of his business unless she chose to make it his business. He went to get lunch in the cafeteria and considered walking around for a bit to see if he might run into her, but as he was eating his sandwich and sipping sparingly at his juice, he was interrupted by a man that was, at the very least, flamboyant.

His hair was styled to look much like animal ears, his golden hair sticking up in two prominent places, though it was hard to tell if that animal was a rabbit or a cat or some other creature in between. He smiled pleasantly at Ray as he sat across from him, and Ray immediately felt uneasy as he the stranger said, "Ah! A newcomer. I know every face in this tower, so I know you must be new. Come, what is your name?"

He wondered where this guy was last night when there was a woman that didn't even belong here wandering the halls, his words dipping as he spoke in the middle. "My name? What's your name?" He took a deep drink from his juice to chase away his hiccups.

"Oh, pardon! My name is Talem Gorsiaux. It's quite nice to meet you. Now yours?" He replied, thrusting his hand into Ray's free hand that didn't clutch at a sandwich that oozed out meat and distress.

"Ray," he answered, wondering how he could possibly keep all these names straight without some sort of cheat sheet. He at least knew his robes would be familiar to him, being a vibrant purple and copper color with a silver ropey robe tie at the hip. His accent was notable as well, sounding flowery and nearly pretentious if not for his friendly demeanor.

"Oh? Just Ray? No family name? No fancy title?" He said, almost as if he was prompting him to make one on the spot just by the way he grinned at him, his teeth almost too white. He almost couldn't stop staring at his teeth once he noticed how white and straight they were.

"Well, yes and no. It's a bit complicated," he answered. "I once told a boy that I was-"

"Yes?" He replied, sitting forward in his seat and making Ray feel weird.

"That I was the ray of light that reaches the bottom of the sea," he coughed. "It was really dumb, and I had been unconscious and unresponsive quite a while before that, so I didn't know I was actually awake. Really dumb."

"Brilliant, I would say!" He replied. "So is that all then? Are you an orphan?"

"Well, yes, but that's not why my name is so short," he replied. "I just can't imagine it's all that important."

"Anything pertaining to yourself is important, young man. Don't you know? The way you see yourself is the way everyone else sees you especially. If you want to be a big, strong man you have to feel big and strong," he insisted.

"But, what if you're wrong?" Ray answered, "I mean what if I'm wrong? Then I just look dumb, and everyone thinks I'm full of myself."

"Well, you certainly don't look right sitting over here all by yourself like this with your shoulders bent," he scolded teasingly, practically leaping over the table to pull his shoulders back for him. "Here! Isn't that better?"

"Hey," Ray said, and it was more like an animalistic squawk. Talem appeared immediately intrigued as Ray turned to regard him.

"What sort of person are you, really? "Talem teased. "I don't think you've thought too hard on it yourself before."

"I'm—"

He paused, trying to think of something that didn't make him sound like a murderer or broken. He moved forward a bit, making sure his shoulders were back as he answered, "I'm not someone worth thinking too much about."

"It must be terribly hard to be no one," Talem responded with a wide grin.

"I didn't say I was no one! I said I wasn't—"

"Wasn't someone," he replied, "someone worth thinking about. Wouldn't that be a nobody? Everyone is interesting to me so you would have to try rather hard to say you were a no one to moi."

"Then tell me what's so interesting about me that you thought I was worth talking to," Ray answered stiffly.

"You're very delicate about the way you eat," he answered, "until I got in your personal space. You acted a lot like an animal and didn't start looking me in the eye until I upset you. You have a few scars, but you don't wear them obviously, and you have a habit of tapping and scratching at things."

Ray tilted his head, starting to feel less hostile and more curious about him. "What do you study here?"

"The behaviors of magic and people," he replied. "Would you be interested in seeing for yourself? Come, I can take you to see for yourself. We can run a few tests."

"I—maybe I'll—I don't know if—It's just that—" he started to stutter out, but Talem immediately stopped him.

"Ah! So sorry, my dear friend. I realize that something like that would be hard on a mind like yours. There's no need to be worried. It's perfectly fine if you feel more comfortable not going at all, but I promise my intentions are honest," he replied, going back around the table, so there was something substantial between the two of them for Ray's own comfort.

Ray appeared a bit conflicted, not sure how to take this, but after a moment he replied, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look."

Talem smiled brightly back and replied, "Come then, and I'll show you." Ray felt uneasy as he had no idea how to get to his room, but Talem started leading him the moment he stood, and Ray felt silly. Of course, he wasn't meant to take the lead. Talem didn't merely lead him along but made it so he could walk beside him.

"You're not a little doggie, are you?" He teased, and Ray puffed himself up a bit, and Talem laughed softly as he was aware that he probably didn't even know he was doing it and was even walking alongside him now. "I truly hope you aren't in the habit of walking behind people only. It's terrible for one's self-image."

Ray nodded hesitantly, not sure what to make of that. He really didn't think too much about it. He wasn't really ever ahead of anyone before now unless he was killing, and he wasn't alongside anyone unless the other person was showing him off. Ray tried to guess at how Talem could be using him for such a use but decided that he wasn't. He even opened the door for him to go first. When Ray hesitated, he told him, "It's merely a courtesy, my friend. Would you prefer if I went in first?"

"This is fine," Ray answered, not wanting to appear rude and walking in ahead of him, though he still braced himself for some sort of trick or trap.

"This is going to be a treat for you," Talem told him excitedly as he followed him in and motioned to a comfy chair, another sitting near it. Ray stayed standing for a moment, feeling a bit conflicted, but sat down when standing in the door started to feel more awkward. When Talem returned, he was holding a mask that was shaped like a rabbit.

"Can you guess what this does?" Talem asked Ray excitedly, not commenting on how Ray seemed to perch on the edge of the soft, peach-colored chair.

"It hides your face," Ray answered, clearly aware of how a masks work.

"Ah! You have a sense of humor as well," he praised, "but no. If you put it on," he placed it over his face, and his features did seem to change a bit, his hand becoming more like paws and his tufts of hair appearing much more like ears than before, "it does alter your appearance a bit, but it also makes you run much, much faster and makes your senses sharper."

Ray felt a bit disconcerted by the way that it did seem to change him, but the mask part seemed to stay mask-like, as if the rest of his features were more alive, but not his face. "That's really something, though why a rabbit?"

"Are rabbits not quick and clever?" Talem argued. "Would you know anything quicker or cleverer?"

"I think I know one animal that's both," he replied, and the wizard felt altogether amused at how Ray seemed to be bragging, practically expecting him to throw down a challenge for a foot race.

"Oh? You think you have a smarter and faster beast than this one? Then why don't you prove it to me?" Talem chuckled.

Ray, without thinking twice about it, immediately changed into his wolf form like he was satisfying an itch after watching the mask at work. Talem appeared absolutely dumbfounded for a moment. With the mask on, Ray couldn't read his expression and was sure he had made a terrible mistake in revealing himself to him. He curled his tail around and tried to make himself smaller, starting to shift back as if taking back what he did was as simple as that.

Talem, however, was faster, practically diving for him. He rubbed at his face and tugged softly at his ears. Ray, shocked at such treatment, and especially with the sudden movement, dug his fangs into his shoulder. The wizard seemed to understand his own mistake immediately, though he didn't tear himself away from Ray as most would have reflexively done.

"I'm sorry. I'm terribly sorry, my friend," he murmured and whispered softly to him, taking his hands away and holding them up so he could see there was nothing there, and then pointing them down as he knew that as a man known for having magic this could be considered hostile as well. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have startled you so. Everything is fine. You're safe here."

Ray was trembling, his fur standing on end as he had stopped changing back the moment he had bit down. Talem's voice seemed to break through to him, and he slowly let go. The wolf whimpered at the smell of blood and waited just a second before darting behind the chair as Talem backed away slowly. He grasped his shoulder and moved across the room to a basin much like the one in Ray's own room, untying his robe and sliding it down gingerly, the violet and copper fabric stained in blood. Ray didn't move, startled and too afraid to change back, and much too afraid to try to get out the door.

"Look," Talem told him very gently, knowing he was still there. "Look, it isn't so bad after all. I can clean it up hastily, and it'll all be fine. I'm so very sorry. I shouldn't have frightened you like that. I must have scared you to death."

Ray felt confused as he peeked out at him from time to time, the vibrant colors in his robes making it easier for him to see him, though he still couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Please, let us talk," Talem implored him, clearly worried. "Please don't be frightened away."

Ray, after a moment, slinked out, changing back to his human form. He stared at the ground, his mouth dry, expecting him to start screaming at him at any moment.

"I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable," Talem told him gently, indicating how his robe was pulled down. "I have to have it down to clean the bite."

"I don't know what happened," Ray replied hollowly. "I didn't mean to."

"It wasn't any fault of yours," Talem told him. "Do you hear me? I shouldn't have done that without your permission. Do you forgive me?"

Ray didn't say anything, tears starting to form in his eyes.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Talem added quietly.

"I forgive you," Ray answered after so he wouldn't think he didn't or wouldn't, still feeling sick and confused. "I just thought you were angry and were attacking me. You aren't disgusted?"

"Excuse me?" He answered quietly. "Nothing is disgusting about what you did. It's brilliant. You must absolutely show me how you did it—if you wish to that is."

"It isn't something I can just teach people. It's native to me," he answered, wishing desperately to just say that it was a complicated spell, but feeling unable to disassociate himself with it in his gut.

"It's lovely and a precious gift for you to have. I hope no one has taught you that what you naturally are is abhorrent. You should be very proud of it," he told him, and it was clear he was struggling not to touch Ray's face. He let his hand drop to his side so he wouldn't be tempted to cup Ray's cheek or bring attention to his other arm that he had to hold at his side after the bite.

Ray was glancing at him now, could see a few crisscrossing scars on his chest, and above where the silver rope belt held the remainder of the robe in place. "You've been calling me friend?" Ray asked softly.

"Yes, that's right. Does it bother you, Ray?" He answered.

Ray shook his head slowly and replied, "I'm feeling a bit light-headed. I hope you'll excuse me."

Talem nodded, going to open the door for him gingerly, and Ray went on his way. He paused and added, "It was nice to meet you."

He didn't just go to his room, but first went to gather a few things. When he returned to his chamber, he made a potion that he hadn't bothered to make in quite some time. He felt like it should be hard to remember, but it sprang to his mind like a spring rising from a rock after the slightest tap. It was miraculous.

He looked at the vial and swirled the liquid inside a bit before pouring it down his throat. By the time he laid down, she was a woman again, and she slept deeply.


	7. Childhood

The dream was hazy, but it quickly grew more and more vivid until she could hardly tell that it was a dream at all as it was happening.

Delarn settled on the very edge of the sizable living room chair, covered in soft and welcoming cloth and leather. Normally, her stepfather sat there to read his paper, but during the day he was off somewhere. The easiest thing to say was that he was working, though it was safe to say that none of them knew where he went off to. The fact that they kept a roof over their heads wasn't his doing alone. She just knew that typically he wouldn't be back until much later and that it was safe to sit there while she worked on sewing her clothes and working on other things. Her small hands complained, but her heart swelled pridefully at what she was doing for herself.

Only today was different. Every day was different in a chaotic household, and she should have known better than to relax. The first thing that happened was that her stepbrother, Solene, came in. His eyes were big and terrified as his hissed, "What do you think you're doing?" He grabbed her wrist and dragged her off the chair, whispering, "Dad is home. We have to get out of here. He's going to be so mad when he sees you were in his chair."  
He pushed her toward the door and started dragging her sewing things to the ground, hoping that it was more believable than if he left them where they were. He turned, angry for a moment as he barked, "What the fuck are you doing, Delarn? Get out of here before he gets here."  
"We shouldn't be saying words like—"  
"Are you fucking stupid?" Solene replied, hardly believing her. "It's my dad. Not yours."  
Delarn appeared a bit confused as if she didn't know how to take what he had just said, but he knew neither of them had the time. He wrapped his arms around her and pushed her out of the room, toward the back door. A few seconds later they heard the front door slam open and then close from the other side of the house.

The sense of danger was starting to seep into her finally, and her legs were beginning to move. She was finally registering what her stepbrother was saying and realizing just what was coming after them.

She turned and burst through the back door in terror, her brother right behind her. The door clicked shut behind them, and it sounded like a bunch of bricks crashing to their ears. She started to run down the street, just wanting to get away, but her brother held her firmly by the back of her shirt.

"He'll see us," he hissed. "I don't know what he'll do if he sees us." His voice was so low that she wasn't sure if he was speaking aloud or if he was communicating this directly into her mind. She stared at him with wide eyes, suddenly frozen with fear, unsure if she should still run, but not knowing what else to do. She definitely didn't think they should be caught just standing there like idiots by the time the man chasing them ripped open the door.

He tugged her back toward the house, and her heart dropped, seeing the door open again and again in her mind, though not even able to guess what would come next. She didn't have much time to think on it, however, as Solene pulled her under the porch in front of the door. The crevice he pulled her into felt like an impossibly tight squeeze.

There was hardly any room between them, and she tried desperately not to whimper or make a sound. She was sure that he would see them down there, and she knew they wouldn't be able to get away if he did.

"Stay still and stay quiet," Solene whispered in her ear. "We're just far enough in that he won't be able to tell we're here as long as we don't move. Don't move."

In the next moment—it had felt like time had stopped until that moment—she could hear the boots of the man they called father clomping on the hardwood floor, and the door slammed against the house like a crash of thunder. It sounded like it was going to fall clean off of its hinges and Delarn squeezed her eyes shut in fear and horror, her stomach rolling.

She could feel her brother wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her as tight against him as possible, his voice softly hushing her despite how he had told her to be quiet, but she knew, and he knew, that their father wouldn't hear him. There were tears in her eyes by now as she moved ever so carefully back against him, almost unable to breathe through the panic, while also trying not to breathe too deeply. Each breath sounded extremely loud to her, and only her heart was louder.

It was silent for a long moment, and that silence grew more and more disorienting. It felt as if she was there for such a long time that it almost felt natural to be there. It almost felt as if this crevice was made just for them. The longer the silence pervaded, and the sound of her heart and breaths were the only sound she could make out, the more she began to wonder if he was there at all, or if that they had imagined him from the start. Even the startling bang that the door made didn't seem too relevant anymore, and she almost wanted to crawl out if not for the way that her brother was holding her in place.

And just when she started to feel comfortable, the explosive anger that exuded from him shook her to her core. It began as a low hiss of breath from his lips that she almost didn't register as a person, and then slowly grew to a guttural, enraged scream that seemed almost too human. It was as if he was trying to sound like a wild animal, but his human voice was too dominant to be overcome. Finally, the screams became more coherent, but this only made them worse.

"You little bitch. You fucking little bitch, what were you doing on my chair?" He snarled, beating his fist against the side of the house again and again, and she could smell his blood if only faintly. "Where the fuck are you? I know you're nearby." She tried not to cry out as she felt his stomping feet vibrating through the wooden ceiling above her, and tried not to even make a sound as her brother stroked her hair to keep her calm.

She could then hear the gut-wrenching tearing of fabric above her, the enraged bellowing shaking the air around them like a physical manifestation, though she knew it wasn't, and she prayed it wasn't though her god was a mad and angry god and would likely spite her if he could hear her begging like a worm.

She could see her pants that she was sewing land in front of her as he hurled them viciously. It grew quiet again, and she struggled to breathe again. She had the urge to go and retrieve it as if she might be able to save it, but Solene held her tightly so she couldn't answer the urge, and after what felt like forever her stepfather practically leaped from the porch onto it, stomping on it and screaming in frustration. He stopped screaming after another few moments—agonizing, terrifying moments—and looked around serenely. She couldn't see his face, but there was definitely something serene about it, and it scared her worse. She was sure that at any moment he would see her and her stepbrother and murder them.

"Nice game," he said with a sigh before walking inside. It was so strangely pleasant that she could have almost believed it was just a game if the twisting pain in her gut didn't tell her otherwise. They had an unspoken agreement, her and Solene, and they didn't come out until it was dark out and they could sneak away. They were out for much of the night and didn't come back until the morning after they were sure he had gone off again. It wasn't the first time this happened, and he always acted like nothing happened by the time they returned. She almost didn't mind as the night outings were almost as fun as her close encounters with him were scary. Almost.

Delarn couldn't remember the exact age it was, but she knew there was a definite morning in which she no longer felt comfortable being a child. She hadn't felt like a child since her father died, but there was a distinct difference between what she had been the night before and what she had become that morning. It was an urge she couldn't shake.

"I want to come with you," she said to her stepmother as she saw her preparing to meet the other Zamorakians.

"You're not going to sneak after me this time?" She asked, and it was true. There were plenty of times when Decari would follow her and watch her training or listen to the other Zamorakians, but this time felt different.

"No, I want to go," she answered, unbothered. "Take me with you."

"If you're sure," the woman replied, her smile sharp and wicked in a way that she usually wasn't when she was pretending to be a model mother. She handed her a mask, one of the smaller ones that didn't fit her, but fit Delarn loosely. She had to hold it in place almost, or it would start to slide down with each step, and she was sure that her stepmother knew that.

The smell of the sewer still was incredibly painful on her nose, but she was used to it as she followed the woman, slogging through the muck and trying to ignore the slick, disgusting feeling.

A tall man wearing heavy black armor stared down at her. For the most part, the armor covered him, but there was a noticeable tear in the metal that slid from his right eye to the left side of his lip to reveal a nasty scar. His blue eyes glared at her as he asked her stepmother, "What? Your rat isn't going to hide this time?"  
"She wanted to come this time," she purred.

"I want to be a full Zamorakian," she said. "I want to be a true member. I don't want to be on the outskirts anymore."

"And if you die?" The man growled, his voice like he was gargling iron.

"Zamorak saved her before. Maybe he'll do it again," her stepmother laughed.

"That's a good point," the man growled, glaring down at Delarn with nothing but malice.

He whistled, his fingers wedging into the crack as if to assist in the sound and a few young Zamorakians appeared. They were nothing like children. They were definitely much older than her, and at least adults. He merely pointed at her, expecting her to run away, though he doubted she would have much of a chance even then.

There were three of them, and they came after her immediately. One of them had a maul that smashed into the ground near her. She scrambled out of the way, and another slid his sword toward her. She gripped onto his armored hand, just barely getting around that blade and pulled herself over his arm and just barely avoiding the crossbow bolt from the third, dragging the mask from her face and holding it like a shield before dropping it altogether.

Her heart beat wildly as they attacked her, but before long she started to see a pattern in the way they attacked her. The one with the sword almost always waited for the one with the maul to strike before trying to catch her off guard, and so she started to act predictably as well. She followed their pattern until they began to think they knew hers as well.

The moment they were comfortable with it, she scrambled up the swordman's chest, his armor having ridges that were easy to navigate. The maul crashed into him as she didn't dodge the same way she usually did, and his armor smashed to pieces under the blow. She grabbed a sharp bit and immediately darted toward the one with the crossbow. He hadn't expected it as Delarn had tried to avoid him until now, and his crossbow went off too far to the left. He didn't even notice how his crossbow bolt sunk into the maul holder's neck. He was too surprised by the fact that Delarn was jabbing the piece of armor into his eye.

Delarn was shaken as she dropped off and backed away from him before he too collapsed, scrambling at bloodied face, and she didn't look at the man with the scar in his armor as she said, not wanting him to know how scared she had been and still was, "And you call these followers of chaos?"


	8. Sobbing

Delarn knew a man that lived on the fringes of town. He never really was in the same house, but he seemed comfortable in whatever home he managed to find whether it was an actual house or a series of crates stacked together.

"My name? Call me...I don't know. What do you want to call me, squirt?" He laughed, patting Delarn's head. She was like a feral cat, untouchable and often hostile, but there was something foreign about the way he talked to her that made her feel comfortable around him.

"I'm not good at names," she answered.

"Anything," he answered, smiling wide, his light brown eyes not quite reflecting the light, but soft in the sunlight, though not quite golden like hers.

"Sunflower," she blurted.

"Sunflower?" He scoffed, ruffling his messy brown hair. It was shaggy, but not really long. "I think I like that. Sunflower."

He wasn't like the other Zamorakians she had met. He seemed so soft.

"Chaos doesn't have to be violence," he told her, and she smiled widely. Something was comforting about that. "It's about change." _Things wouldn't be the same forever._

"What do you do?" She asked.

"What do I do for what?" He asked.

"Work, I guess," she replied, scuffing her shoes.

"I do a whole lot of things," he said. "Sometimes I'll catch fish down the way and sell it over yonder in the square. Sometimes I'll get on my hands and knees and beg like a cat. Other times I'll take bets over in the barbarian village, and sometimes I'll win, and other times I'll lose, but I'll always get something to eat by the end of the day."

"So you don't fight with the other Zamorakians? You don't fight the white knights?" She asked.

"Well," he replied after a moment, "there is something I tend to do, but it's more like a game. I know this guy from Falador. You could call him an old friend, but we do this thing where we—well, why don't you come with me? You can see for yourself. We meet on the east side of town this afternoon actually."

"That's awfully convenient," she replied.

"The more you start to realize that all of this is a story that we're living in, the easier life becomes, especially after you know how to interpret the meaning of the literature."

She nodded, her eyes wide, never hearing someone say anything like that before. It sounded almost mad, but she liked it.

"Come along, then," he said, extending his hand. She stared at it for a long time but finally took it. It didn't seem to bother him how she hesitated, and he didn't move until she did take it. Maybe it was because he knew she wanted to, or perhaps it was to take away the choice to refuse.

As they walked, they passed a man that was big and scruffy, and she recognized him as one of the men from the sewer army though he didn't have his armor because they were out in the street.

"What are you doing with the chosen child of Zamorak?" He asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Are you going to play some of your games, then? Are you using little girls now?"

"I can't imagine what you're implying, but you can wipe that look off your face," he answered. "Delarn here is my friend."

"Friend?" He spat. "She doesn't have any friends. She's bad luck, and that's all she's good for at the moment. Once she's used up no one will speak up for her then either, and she'll do it to herself too."

"That's how your order speaks about children? Not much of a future for your lot then, but I can't say much for myself either," he laughed lightly, unbothered. "Cruelty isn't chaos. Cruelty is predictable. That's how you can lay her fate out like that. Not that I believe it. Not for a second."

"Do what you want with her," he said. "I don't care if she stays or goes."

Delarn didn't look in his direction as he was talking and didn't speak until he was gone, and when she did speak, it had nothing to do with what he had said as if she didn't know he had been there at all.

"So what is this friend from Falador like?" She asked.

"Well, what would you think someone from Falador to be like?" He asked.

"Tall and straight-backed, like he can't slouch even if he wanted to. Really clean. White in every way," she replied almost immediately.

"Yeah, that's him," he answered with a grin, tousling her hair. "You've got him completely figured out."

She smiled proudly. She felt the kind of pride that she starved for each time he praised her, and she wanted to believe this was only good.

Nonetheless, it was there in the back of her mind. How was he trying to use her? No one she knew would be this nice to her without having a purpose for it. She was sure she just didn't know it yet.

But even so, she was enjoying herself now. Everything was fine now. If anything were to go wrong, she felt confident she could escape it.

They approached the edge of town, and sure enough, a man wearing a finely cut set of white knight armor was waiting there. He had a crossbow in his hand, and he whistled a tune to himself until they drew closer.

He immediately noticed Delarn, saying to his friend, "I didn't know you had a daughter. Did you know?"

"She's not my daughter, Eugin," he answered with a laugh. "She's just a friend of mine. My name is Sunflower today."

"I'm guessing you aren't here to turn yourself in?" He joked. "Not if you're bringing a little girl with you. Or is the little girl turning herself in as well?"

"We're both as innocent as the day we were born," he answered with a warm smile. "Delarn, why don't you go stand to the side?"

The girl nodded, and the knight seemed suddenly uneasy as he waited for her to get to the side. "What did you say her name was?"

"None of your business," Sunflower replied with a cheerful sort of laugh. "Now are we doing this or not?"

"Why don't we add to the bet?" He said carefully. "I'll shoot three of these at you today. If any of them hit you, then I take you both back to Falador. Sound good?"

"And if they don't we don't do this for another three months, instead of one," he countered, not showing his curiosity, but hardly able to imagine why the knight would want a little girl as well.

"That's a deal," he replied, lifting his crossbow and firing it. Delarn sucked in a breath, hardly expecting it. The bolt rang out loudly as Sunflower pulled a knife from his sleeve and made it skid to the side with ease. It bounced in the dirt a bit, and though it didn't come close to Delarn, he wasn't quite content with the trajectory.

"Delarn, dear," he said immediately. "Would you mind moving back a bit? Behind that tree? We're going to do this two more times, and I don't want to risk you getting hurt."

"But what about you?" She replied tensely, expecting him to shoot off another bolt while they were talking, but Eugin seemed just as concerned with her safety, waiting for her.

"We've been doing this for years. It's just a game, and one I'm particularly good at," he answered.

"I would never shoot to kill him," Eugin added, and Sunflower nodded in agreement. She hesitantly went to do what she was told, her feet sliding back and to the side until she was behind the tree, but still able to see around it. It was far back, and so there was little to no chance that it would hit her even when she was peeking around like she was.

The moment they were both certain that she was out of the way, Eugin fired another bolt. He aimed it lower, lower than the dagger could comfortably divert it. With a skillful showing of agility and strength, he leaped gracefully over it.

"You seem particularly desperate this time," he commented loftily, "or did you guess what I would ask for? You could have just told me that you had somewhere to be in the next few months."

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Eugin told him, aiming the crossbow again. This time when he fired it the bolt went past him altogether and hit the ground a few feet behind him. Sunflower grinned at him.

"Were you even trying that time?" He scoffed.

"I thought you might move," he answered, feeling the anticlimactic finish in his stomach.

"Well, that's alright. We can't guess them all, can we?" Sunflower responded, practically gloating. He held up this thumb and two fingers and added, "Remember, three months, and then we'll try again."

"Right, of course," Eugin responded, glancing at Delarn again. Sunflower didn't miss it as he smiled broadly and called out, "Delarn, come along. It's time to go. Say goodbye to the nice knight."

"Your sort won't ever win against the likes of us," Delarn called to him, strangely serious now, and he noticed how she hid behind him and how she was now glaring. It was a strange mixture of experience and innocence, and he didn't know what to say about it so he laughed it off, waved at Eugin, and shuffled her off before he could get a good look at where they were heading.

She didn't realize it at the time, but he was doing his best to keep her out of sight during the months to come. When she wasn't training in the underground, she was with him in the lofts, and exploring abandoned buildings, and talking with old women in the slums. He kept her away from the mainstream areas where a knight would know to look. He didn't know why Eugin was looking for her, but he knew where he was and how he would search and so by the time three months had passed he had convinced him that Delarn was nowhere to be found.

He had also gone to face Eugin in the competition again without her when the three months had passed. Those three months had been the best she had known in quite some time. She was nearly convinced to join him in his lifestyle.

He searched for him the day after, and the day after that, and the day after that, but he was nowhere to be found before she went to battle practice again.

She was distracted as the bulky Zamorakian punched her and knocked her to the side, threatening her bones and organs with each strike. She didn't seem to feel it.

"What were you searching for, Delarn? Your _friend_?" He scoffed as Delarn's breathing grew more and more ragged and she swabbed the blood from her face.

"Do you know where he is?" She asked, her voice congested.

"He's dead. He died a few days ago. A Saradominist shot him, Delarn. Have you not heard? They bet something, and he lost. The bolt was shot into his heart. They say it would have gone into his shoulder, but he jerked. He moved when he wasn't meant to," he sneered.

Delarn shook her head.

"They say it was over you and he died so that the Saradominist would lose as well. They were brothers, they say. You caused that man to kill his own brother," the man jeered.

He shoved Delarn, punched her, and then shoved her again.

And she found herself blacking out, unresponsive.

There was an audible cracking noise. Again and again. It caved in, and it was so hard to breathe.

Her hands were bloodied. Her eyes were red from crying.

The metal of his armor was dented deep by the time she was finished. He gasped for breath, and it took forever for them to be able to extract him from his armor. Delarn hid after that. She hid for fear of retribution from him and from discovery from the white knights. Her head hurt. All she could recall was him mocking her for punching his armor with her bare fists when she knew it wouldn't hurt him before it had started to cave.

Delarn awoke sobbing loudly, curling herself into a ball and hugging her knees to her chest. "I'm going to be alone forever," she gasped again and again until it didn't sound real anymore. She cried until she fell back to sleep and awoke later and went about her day as if nothing happened.


	9. Disassociation

Delarn stood elbow to elbow with Glen, looking at the tubes and pullies consisting of liquid going from one container to the other that was his research. She didn't have to say much to him when she showed up at his door for him to let her in, and she wanted to pretend that it was because he already knew who she was, and though she was already fairly aware of the real reason, she wanted to pretend anyway.

He grinned at her as he said, "The ocean has a high concentration of salt in it."

"I'm acquainted with what kind of water is located in the ocean," she answered plainly, her arms folding. She expected him to be upset with her tone, but he merely chuckled.

"Right, of course!" He replied, grinning dumbly. "Of course, I knew that." Delarn knew that it was unlikely she was ever going to actually be friends with this man.

A chime went through the room, a spell that Glen put on his door that would activate whenever someone knocked. Delarn tensed up a bit, but Glen didn't seem to notice. He went, and there was a young man with a bag of letters. He had curved horns on his head, but Glen didn't seem to notice.

"You're both needed," the boy told them. "One of you is a keeper and the other—we've noticed your change, and we believe it could be helpful to the tower. Please respond immediately." He handed them both a letter, but it didn't seem to say anything. Instead, they just got a strong feeling that something needed to happen.

The moment that the messenger was gone, Glen behaved as if one didn't even appear. Instead, he turned to Delarn and said with a goofy grin, "Why don't we go to lunch together? Out in the town?"

Delarn felt immediately uneasy as she hadn't left the tower since the day she had come here, much less like this, and a part of her was sure there was no longer anything outside these walls.

"Sure," she replied, more because she wanted him to prove to her that there actually was rather than because going on a date with him sounded pleasant to her. "Will you tell me more about your research?"

"Oh, sure," he replied, sounding almost disappointed, and she hoped that what he had already shown her wasn't all that he had to him.

She walked alongside him, aware of the exit thanks to the spell that made it possible to navigate the building, but not believing it until she was actually standing outside. There was a gate around the tower and a bell so that someone not a member of the guild could contact someone within the guild.

She stood, staring blankly until Glen brought her back to the moment. "Delani?"

"Yes, that's me," she replied, and he gave her a funny look. It made her skin crawl, and she huffed and walked ahead of him and beyond the gate.

"Hey, what's that about?" He asked her, his old surliness returning and she was once more comfortably unaware if she was the reason he was annoyed or if he was annoyed all on his own.

"It's nothing. You said something about eating somewhere?" She asked.

"Oh, right! I don't have any money on me right now, but we can drop by the bank and discuss where we want to go," he answered quickly.

"I'm not from around here. Have you been anywhere in town before?" She asked as they walked, looking around and remembering her reception when she first came to town, but she didn't want to mention it. Her beard wasn't nearly as messy now, after all.

"I've been out once or twice, but not too often," he admitted awkwardly as if Delarn hadn't spent all her time in the tower since she got here herself. Not that he knew who she was, she reminded herself, trying not to feel annoyed with him for that.

"We can look around town and find a place that suits us, then," she replied. She considered letting him know explicitly that this wasn't a date of any sort, but she didn't think now was a good time for that. When would be?

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea," he said as they came upon the bank. She could feel someone on the other side of the door about to come out, and it took her a moment longer to realize that Glen didn't realize it as he reached for the door. A moment too late, she convinced herself, and not because she wanted to see him embarrassed.

He reached for the door, and the door opened, and a well-dressed man stepped out and nearly ran into him. Glen stepped back, startled, and the man glared at him as if he was a complete idiot rather than someone that had made an honest mistake. His eyes then settled on Delarn, and he seemed to soften in his demeanor, staring at her as he said, "Ah, you must be adventurers. Would you mind coming back with me to discuss an issue I'm having?"

"What's in it for us?" Glen asked, and the man looked back at him as if he was an insect that didn't exist as long as he wasn't connected to Delarn, and Delarn started to feel defensive of him as someone that was, in fact, connected to her in some way.

"Exactly what my friend said. What's in it for us?" She put in, and he finally seemed to acknowledge them both as a single unit despite how Glen seemed to give her a particular look when she said 'friend.' She decided to choose this as one of those moments when her eyesight wasn't good enough to guess at what his expression meant.

"You'll both be paid well if you can help me," he answered, frowning and looking at Glen now. She almost wanted him to look at her instead, but at least he didn't have the same look on his face when he was looking at him. Not that Delarn didn't consider that just as bad.

There were a couple of hefty guards that had been hidden in the bank when they were talking, and they walked behind them now on the way back to his house, almost as if they were assuring they couldn't escape. The house wasn't quite as big and showy as the Ardougne manors but was plenty rich for Yanille. She considered that if she had intended to kill him, she could have had the perfect chance when they were stuck in the bank, but that was as far as her imaginings went. Her mind wandered for the most part other than when Glen tried to take her hand, and she considered taking his off though she didn't say anything instead and merely walked a few centimeters to the side so he might take the hint or might not realize anything other than how inconveniently far she was.

Delarn felt herself mentally check out further as they walked inside the rich man's house, and she felt a few familiar twangs of what it was like to walk in a noble's home. She tried not to make her disassociation visible as she pretended to stare somewhere past everyone into the void.

Her and Glen were sitting down side by side while the noble talked for a very long time.

The first thing she registered was when a glass was put in front of her, and she reflexively picked it up, and the rich man said, "Ah yes, I see you have a taste for wine. This particular bottle was made from grapes grown in our local vineyards."

"I actually hate to drink," she answered, putting the glass back down, and she registered that Glen was giving her a dirty look and the rich man appeared utterly disgusted with her.

It didn't really touch her all that much as Glen hesitantly put his glass back down and the rich man waved them away. "Go on, then. Take care of my task and return when you have it all figured out."

Delarn stood immediately and turned around and walked out with Glen making a disgruntled groan and following her. He caught up with her not quite halfway between the rich man's home and the wizard's guild. "What was that about?"

"So what is our mission?" She asked. "What do we need to do?"

"You're going to be a spinster, aren't you?" He mumbled under his breath.

"I didn't quite hear that," she answered with the blank and courteous expression of someone that heard everything and cared little about anything. "Is that all?"

"We have to go to Ardougne and-"

Delarn started walking again.

"Are you really that eager to search for that assassin?" He asked her.

"There's an assassin?" She replied, stopping again and looking at him. He had an itching feeling that she thought it was for her.

"So that entire time, you really weren't paying attention? I knew you looked out of your mind, but I thought you were just ignoring his advances. I didn't think-"

"I was ignoring yours as well," Delarn cut in. "Now are you going to tell me or not?"

"There's this guy I met recently. You two are practically twins," he answered stiffly.

"I'm going back to the tower, and you can deal with this on your own," she answered.

"I'm fairly sure this was the mission the tower gave us," Glen countered.

"That's really funny because all I remember is a little-horned hallucination boy giving us a blank piece of paper," she spat.

"There's a wolfman with ginger hair apparently harassing the rich people near Ardougne, and we have to find him," Glen finally told her. "That's all there is to it."

"Fucking cool," Delarn muttered under her breath. "Let's go wander the streets. I'm sure if we both search I'll finally find myself."

"What? Don't be a bitch if you're going to do it too," Glen hissed.

"Let's just go," Delarn said, her voice suddenly becoming sweet. "I came out here to get something to eat with you so let's go get something, shall we? I know this great playhouse in Ardougne that you'll absolutely adore seeing."

His lips thinned, but he took her lead, saying in a similarly sweet, sarcastic voice, "After you, dear!"

Delarn felt strangely annoyed that they were once more walking side by side, but she didn't want to walk ahead of him because she wanted to keep an eye on him and there was no way in the abyss or otherwise that she would let him walk ahead.

The closer they drew to Ardougne, the more Delarn started to feel out of sorts. Her face became paler, and she was visibly shaking. When her breathing began to get harder, Glen stopped and looked at her, his hard demeanor softening. "Hey, Delani?"

"That's not my name," Delarn snapped, glad to have something to put her panic towards, her fists clenching at her side.

"I've been trying to be nice to you, but you're just—"

He stopped when he caught sight of someone approaching. At first, he grew quiet because he didn't want a stranger to see them bickering, but then he noticed more disturbing things about the man. He had a tuft of orange hair and a sunken face. He moved like he was a group of bones gathered into a thin cloth cloak. Worst of all were his eyes. They were a deep, dark blue and appeared empty and devoid of any pupil or sense of life, though they were openly staring at the two of them.

And then he realized something else that was familiar and almost—almost—filled him with indignation, and that was that he wasn't looking at both of them, just at Delarn.

He felt only a morsel of distress as the man hunched down on all fours, and with inhuman speed, sprung upon Delarn.


	10. What's Owed

Delarn went limp the moment the figure hit her, but there were many different sensations that she felt that she couldn't quite make heads or tails of. The most prominent was the sense of familiarity with the figure, as if he was someone she had known well, or that he was meant to be. The second thing was the sense of being in a very similar situation as the breath was knocked out of her, hitting the ground hard, and the figure looming over her with vapid breath. His teeth weren't immediately notable until he drew closer and they seemed to grow thicker and sharper, canines extending outward.

Unlike the last time she felt this sensation, she was less afraid, or rather less certain of her inability to get away despite his grip on her shoulders that felt like iron clamping down. She immediately kicked out and caught him in the ribs, filling with revulsion as the kick felt like it was sliding off actual bones more than flesh. Those dark eyes widened and a snarl tore from his throat and went through him like a vibration. He lifted Delarn up a bit by the front of her shirt, intent on smashing her against the ground, but a blast of magic hit him in the side. The force of the strike knocked him over, but he managed to keep his grip enough to bring Delarn down with him.

Delarn landed on top, however, and his grip still loosened enough for her to scramble away, moving on her hands and feet much like a wolf, though not quite shifting. His sharp nails nearly tore a hole in her shirt, but she managed to get away with it intact. As she stared at him, watching him slowly change and grow in shape and size, she felt a tickling sensation in the back of her mind like a mockery. Why wasn't she turning into a wolf as well? Was she too ashamed to change in front of the wizard? No, she thought. She was afraid of him and his advances and how entirely foreign she was to him, but not him seeing her for what she was.

The only way she could describe what she was seeing in front of her was a werewolf. He was hulking and strangely human in his form, covered in thick orange fur that looked almost unnatural in its own way. Delarn could make out bones that jutted from his figure as if there wasn't enough skin, as if he should be dripping with blood from a heinous wound, but overall he seemed bloodless. The only thing that seemed to motivate him was destroying her, and she only realized that a second after she realized that she had spent too long observing him as he sprang at her again.

She managed to sidestep him, but just barely, rolling out of the way. He turned on his heels and ran after her in pursuit on all fours before towering over her, rising on his back legs like a bear. Delarn was stunned at this sight, feeling another wave of familiarity. She rose to her feet after the roll and was frozen a moment before his clawed hand hit her like a club and sent her sprawling. She felt another twinge of mockery tickling the back of her brain, and she was starting to imagine that it wasn't merely in her head at all. It was another insistent plea that she change into a wolf, filling her to the brim with mockery for her reluctance.

One thing she noticed about this creature was that unlike most things that she saw with her eyes that were near-sighted and unable to make out much, he seemed to be clear to her. Some things were clear to her, and it was usually things that were unnaturally magical. Only now that she tried to drag herself back to her feet to try to fight—or more likely defending herself—she felt a sharp pain in her side that left her gasping for breath. She feared something was punctured or broken, and suddenly even this creature was blurry in her vision.

She thought she could make out Glen beyond it as well, and she wondered why he wasn't doing anything. There was a clear shot from where he was standing, but he wasn't moving. He was just a definite shape in the distance. She found herself getting angry at the thought that he was just watching it kill her as if he thought that he rudeness justified her being murdered. "Damn you," she tried to say, but she found that only blood was coming from her mouth and everything was quickly growing blacker around her.

She could feel herself being lifted up and all she could make out were those cold, deep, dark blue void eyes. She chuckled as she thought this was the most humiliating death she had experienced.

She opened her eyes and felt immediately that she wasn't dead. Everything was too blurry and painful for her to be dead as she knew it. She groaned as she tried to sit up, but the pain was sharp, and so she laid back.

"Ah! Merci! You're awake," Talem said as he had been sitting by her bed. "Glen here told me that you were attacked by a monster, and he killed it, but not before it did you terrible injury. I caught him taking you back to his room. What a kind man, bringing you into his own living quarters to heal you!"

"He killed it?" Delarn answered blankly, closing her eyes for a minute or two. She could still see it inches in front of her face, prepared to rip her apart. In the state she was in, it could have killed her just with a good throw. She was practically dead as it was as far as she knew when she had blacked out.

"As he says," Talem said with a solemn nod.

"I did," Glen said impatiently, feeling he wasn't given enough credit for what he did. "I was charging a spell, and it had you in its grip, but I released the spell at the last minute, and it practically disintegrated. I guess it was weak against water. It was hard enough stabilizing you after."

"He had time to collect the reward after as well," Talem added helpfully. He took a small pouch from the bedside table and handed it to her, offering his hand to her to assist her with sitting up. She took his offered hand, and after she was comfortably sitting up, she weighed the pouch in her hand before pouring the coins out into her other hand. It was a meager amount.

"This is what they gave you for killing it?" She asked.

"That's right," Glen answered. "Half of it. That half is for you."

"Are you telling me that you killed that creature and he only gave us this much?" Delarn asked, her eyes narrowing at the coins for a moment before looking up at him.

"There was no proof that we actually killed it. I could barely get that much out of him," he spat back. "You know, for someone that would have been dead if I wasn't there to save you you're quick to jump to implications."

Delarn's expression softened and filled with guilt as she tried to backpedal, saying, "I just woke up. I don't know what's what and I thought maybe–well, I don't know. I'm sorry. It's not that I doubt you."

"That's right. You shouldn't doubt me," he answered, immediately crossing the room to the door and tugging it open. Talem rolled his eyes the moment he slammed it before noticing how shaken Delarn was by the encounter.

"You don't owe him anything; you know that don't you?" He asked.

"He did save my life," she replied softly.

"Would your life not need to be saved if he was there or not? What would you have been doing there without him?" Talem retorted. "I hope you don't believe you owe me for the bite on my shoulder when you were simply setting boundaries."

It took her a moment to register what he had said, and she replied, "You recognize me?"

"I'd have to be daft and blind not to," he answered. "It's an interesting trick. It is a trick, no?"

She immediately knew he was asking whether or not it too was something she could naturally do or not.

"It's a trick, yes. I can show you how to do this one or I can at least give you a few vials of what I make for it," she replied. "It's that obvious—that we're the same person?"

"Do so few look directly at you for you to think someone would be so fooled?" He answered incredulously. "Would it be too much to ask you one more thing? It may come across as too intrusive."

"I don't mind," she answered softly, finding that she found him captivating in the way he saw her in such a way that refusing simply wasn't an option.

"Is there a reason you do it? A reason that you change yourself like this?" He asked.

"It's easier to hide away like this," she answered noncommittally. It wasn't convincing, and though it wasn't quite defensive, there was definitely a protective hesitance about it.

"Does—I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you like this. Do you go by the same name or something different?" He asked.

"Delarn," she replied softly.

"Does Delarn cower? Does she hide what she prefers and doesn't? Does she care what others think of her, or does she flinch at the blows and keeps her head bowed?" He asked firmly. "Is she even a she?"

"I was born one, yes. I don't care either way. I suppose when push comes to shove I'm what I was born as though perhaps I take pride in being a man as well," she answered, her voice wispy and light as if it might simply blow away.

"And does Delarn hide herself when push comes to shove?" He said, not wanting her to deviate from the others things he asked her.

"No, she doesn't," Delarn answered. "When it comes down to it she—I would do anything to be seen and to survive. I've made so many mistakes that it's almost too heavy, but I want to live. I want to be seen."

"And you will. You deserve the same comforts as anyone else, and you don't owe anything to any man or woman. Understand?" He told her, folding his arms.

"I don't believe I can say that," she answered quietly.

"Oh?" He replied, appearing ready to yell at her.

"I owe you quite a bit," she offered, "for speaking to me like this."

"This?" He replied though he appeared a bit surprised and a bit flustered, turning about a few times. "This is nothing. Why don't you get some rest?"

"I don't want to rest here," she answered, reaching out for him. It took him only a moment before he was wrapping his arms around her and supporting her, helping her stand and helping her walk out of the room. She felt deep aches all over, but it wasn't so bad that she couldn't walk and couldn't move. She studied him a few times when she thought he wasn't paying attention though she knew he was all the while.

He sat her in her bed, making sure she was comfortable. "Please stay for a while," she asked him, and he obliged, sitting on the bed beside her though they talked little after she was back in her own room.

After a while, as she blinked drowsily, he asked her suddenly, "Would you mind showing me your trick? I'm curious. I want to know what it's like and perhaps it will help me understand you a bit better."

"I think you understand me quite well," she answered sleepily, "but if it's what you want, then I would be glad to oblige you."


	11. Group Project

Ray found himself sitting in a little cafe with a female Talem sitting across from him. He felt a bit dumb as he thought about how this was how he imagined Glen wanted it, only there was a slight difference. Reeva, the woman that he had met in the library, was sitting beside him. There were a ton of different cakes and drinks on the table and a bunch of books in front of her that she flipped through casually. Talem was making faces at her while she read, and Ray was relaxing. He had been particularly tired since the accident outside of Ardougne. He wasn't even entirely sure where Reeva had come from.

It wasn't that he hadn't seen her since the library, but it just seemed unprecedented that they would spend time together outside the tower at all. He would see her at least once a week, and he would lead her to the cafeteria, and they would eat together, and sometimes she would say things, but often times it wasn't to him. He wasn't even sure if she liked him outside of the service he was providing for her as a guide. Sometimes he would see her more than once a week as even though he wasn't sure if she liked him, he really liked her company for some reason though if asked he wouldn't be able to answer why. He often worried about whether or not this was an unhealthy sort of obsession, but he considered that there were far worse things he had known and this was reasonably symbiotic.

All he had said to her was, "Would you want to come with Talem and I to eat in town?" and she had agreed.

Initially, he felt as if he had done something wrong. He glanced at Talem who was now a woman after drinking the brew he made for her. She seemed delighted that another person was involved, and treated Ray as if he had done something remarkable merely by speaking up.

It was strange to be sitting with them both at the table, the only guy when he would have typically have been a girl otherwise. He tried not to feel embarrassed and nervous, but with Reeva there, he couldn't manage to say anything. Talem was patient and even seemed delighted with him, continuing to give him reassuring grins. She seemed to delight in making faces at Reeva as well while the other woman looked at her heavy books and notes. She seemed to be trying to sort through a problem before finally speaking her mind.

"I had you in mind specifically for this," she said towards Ray, "but I wasn't sure if it would be safe to speak in the tower. A little cake shop like this? Perfectly safe. Wizards are arrogant people, and they don't tend to look in the little places. Their views are too broad or too narrow, and both keep their eyes elsewhere," she said.

"And what about you?" Talem asked, hardly able to say he would think to look here himself, but doubting he would be the sort to listen in on people, to begin with.

"Me especially. I'd be looking in libraries for information. That's where I found Ray, didn't I?" She said simply.

"It was a good find," Talem agreed, and Ray's face reddened a bit as he looked elsewhere.

"But more importantly, I believe I've found something particularly unsettling. If my studies are correct there's a man by the name of Oztraz living amongst the people of Yanille and he may even be in the tower already. He isn't particularly well known for the worst things he's done, but he is known for particular experimentations." Her nose wrinkled. "Though if what I've found is correct, he's seemed to have taken notice in an underworld parallel to our own. There aren't many that can see it, and some say that it requires the eyes of animals."

"Eyes of animals?" Talem asked cheerily, glancing at Ray before placing a cake in front of him when he noticed he hadn't been eating any of it. Ray was watching Reeva and didn't see at first, and Talem felt pleased when Ray began to eat it. She had a feeling that he wasn't willing to take food for himself.

"Yes. I know you do some sort of research with animals?" She asked, guessing that he intended to offer his services in that matter before looking at her curiously. "Also why are you like that?"

Talem gripped at her own breasts and commented with a grin, "Like this? I wanted to help Ray with something, and I thought this would help. I admit that it does feel a bit funny, but I do appreciate what he does and can do."

"I suppose you two enjoy each other quite a lot," she said, tilting her head at Talem.

"Are you implying something about our innocent lamb? Oh no, no, no. I'm simply helping him with a project of his. Ray is an honest one. The most honest," Talem said. "He doesn't deserve any sort of implications on his head."

"Please don't put wool on my back," Ray muttered quietly. "I mean, please don't speak as if I'm-I don't deserve to be treated as if I'm clean."

"You've been on your own for a while, haven't you, and I haven't seen you show any sign of improper behavior. You have a certain cleanliness about you on your own, and you hardly deserve any of that nastiness that's settled in your mind," Talem replied.

"You can't imagine," Ray said. "I mean, why don't we talk about this Oztraz? He sounds familiar, but I can't figure out why."

"We should do our best to find him quickly and take him out before he becomes an actual threat," Reeva said, glad to be reminded that they had gone off track.

"An actual threat," Talem scoffed. "I hear about disasters all the time, but I rarely see one. How can we be sure there's one, to begin with? Disasters feel like fairy tales to me."

"It's easy to disregard disaster when there's always someone else preventing them," she answered. "Perhaps it's time for us to take our turn."

"Ray, dear, do you believe in disasters? That they actually happen? With enough time I think any disaster simmers out before it can actually be harmful," Talem said comfortably.

"I've seen a disaster or two," he answered uneasily. "I know they aren't as simple as that. One moment they're nothing, and then they're suddenly big and looming. I know disasters."

"I trust Ray's judgment," Talem said as if he didn't care either way, but intended to for Ray's sake, "I guess it's our turn then. What do you suggest on finding this Oz?" Her tone was clipping as if she was merely enjoying the experience of the conversation they were having.

"I suppose, first of all, we need to identify any odd happenings. Have you seen anything like that?" She asked.

"Our dear Ray was attacked and nearly killed by an oddity. Weren't you, Ray?" Talem said, amusement rising in her voice as she watched Ray eat, ever delicate and ever distracted. After a moment, however, he did look up as Reeva began tapping her nails on the table impatiently.

"An orange beast. He appeared lanky and-and familiar in a strange way. He had dark blue eyes, and he turned into a—a monstrosity, standing on two legs and having sharp teeth and claws," he answered.

"But Glen killed it," Talem added, "before it could kill Ray. It seemed particularly interested in Ray."

"That thing? It's definitely not dead. I've seen it wandering around at night as if it's looking for something. If it's Ray, that would make sense. I can't imagine why it would want Ray, however," Reeva said as she continued to tap on the table.

"I didn't think he was being wholly honest," Talem sighed. "It's to be expected from men like him; trying to make up for something he most certainly doesn't have."

"I don't doubt he might have thought this creature was dead," Reeva answered, Ray looking between the two of them curiously. "It has a powerful healing trait. I wouldn't doubt that it could come back from practically nothing, though I'm sure it has a core."

"I could face it again," Ray said after he ate the last piece of the cake that had been placed in front of him. "I can't imagine why, but I really want to see it again."

"I admire your voracity for dying, but I can't say that I approve of your actual pursuit of it," Talem joked to hide the undercurrent of actual concern in her voice. Ray couldn't help but notice that as a woman, there was little difference between from when Talem was a man as if he was merely wearing a costume. It felt different from what Ray was doing, and he didn't know what to think of it.

"Well, if it's searching for Ray then he's going to run into it sooner or later. I can't decide whether sooner or later is better," she added thoughtfully. "I suppose whether or not it's connected to Oztraz, it's definitely another problem we'll be facing."

"I want Ray to face as little problems as possible," Talem said. "If this orange beast is a threat to him then he's a problem for me."

"You don't need to worry about me. I'll handle it fine," Ray murmured awkwardly.

"I want to worry about it," Talem answered, "and you can't stop me."

"But if it's not connected to Oztraz that means that we don't have any information on Oztraz himself," Reeva muttered, discontent.

"Then what do we know to do?" Ray said, suddenly invested as he didn't want Talem to believe he wasn't capable of doing so. "Are there any precautions we can take?"

"There is a spell that will work on him, but it requires someone with the eyes of animals to perform. I considered finding an Aviansie, but I can't imagine where one might be found. They aren't common, and they aren't likely to agree," Reeva answered.

"I know my way around that. There will definitely be someone capable by the time we need it. Do you need time to prepare it?" Ray asked.

"I do need a bit. It will definitely take some preparation. I'll need to locate the right points, for example," she answered.

"Then take care of that. Talem will find the orange beast, and I'll be there to help him," Ray told her.

"Bold of you to assume that I will," Talem said, a smirk spreading across her face.

"I mean-that is to say-"

"I would adore to. I like boldness on you. I like seeing you confident," Talem told Ray with a smile. "It's sweet to see you so interested all of a sudden."

"I would hate to let you both do it all on your own is all," he answered awkwardly, his nose twitching.

Talem laughed lightly and asked, "How long does this last? This potion? It's not that I don't enjoy being a woman, but I don't believe I'm meant for it."

"It's reversible after a day," Ray answered, eyeing the sweets in front of him, his eyes widening as Talem passed him another one, adding quickly, "Eighteen hours at least before it will work again."

"I see. That's very nice to know," she hummed.

"So I'll work on the spell, and you both will investigate in the meantime," Reeva said, and Talem laughed lightly as Ray jumped as if he had forgotten she was there when the potion was mentioned.

"That's right," he answered, running his hand through his hair a few times and eating the piece of apple pie that was placed in front of him. It was gooey and sweet. "I think Talem and I will be able to gather something of the like."

She nodded, and they were all quiet again, like when they first arrived, though this time Talem was taking her time feeding Ray sweets.

The shop was on the east side of town, and Ray could see through the gate and toward the ocean. He could see something flying over it. It wasn't flying towards them but was dancing over the waves and twisting and turning in the air. He could tell that it was a dragon and it seemed to be playing.

Talem noticed the way that Ray was looking out and said, "The ocean is beautiful this time of year, no?" He watched with Ray, but something told him that Talem couldn't see the dragon as well.


	12. Picnic

Talem and Delarn danced close together, his arm around her waist and his green eyes dancing with amusement. The music swelled and fell like springtime, and she felt absolutely light and pleased as they circled the vast and empty ballroom.  
"I never would have guessed you knew how to dance like this," he told her with a smile.  
"I learned from my mother," she answered. "It must have been ages ago."  
"Is that true?" he replied. "I took you for a natural."  
"I am rather natural on my feet," she said.

The young wizard, Ronvile was there, standing at the edge of the dancefloor with a grin on his face as he watched them. Despite how loud the music was, Delarn could hear him clearly. "Why do you resist? Why don't you give in to what you want? We both know that you don't still love her, so why don't you eat that cub of yours and forget."

"Ignore him, dear. This is our time. It's not about him, and your past means nothing to me if you want it to mean nothing to you," Talem told her. "Do what's best for you."

He pulled her in close and hugged her tightly against him, and she cried. She was so afraid of losing him if she had to move on. What if he didn't like her after she had to leave?

Ray woke up and rubbed tears out of his eyes. He felt confused and wondered briefly why he was still having strange dreams as he got up and washed his face, though the feeling of wanting to cry persisted. The longer he was awake, the calmer he felt. He got the potion and drank it down, sitting on the bed until she was back to being a woman. She was meeting Talem today to see if they could find the being that had attacked her, and they had agreed the night before that they would stay out as late as it would take. They had considered going out the night before, but Talem insisted that it would be best to start fresh the next day and that he was tired. Talem had changed back soon after getting back to his room. Ray wanted to stay a man a bit longer.

"I must admit I can't quite understand it, but I respect that you do have that need," Talem told him with a smile. Talem hugged him, and he let him. It was awkward, and he didn't know what to do as his face scraped Talem's cheek, but Talem didn't seem to mind. "Have a good night, Ray, and I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," Ray had answered with an awkward smile. Despite not knowing how to hug, Ray found that he liked that Talem wanted to hug him.

Delarn rubbed her face, got up and got dressed before heading down to the library. Talem was more than a bit late. Something in her gut had told her he would be, and it didn't bother her all that much as she sat there and read. She was aware that he was the type of person that slept in, and she definitely wasn't. She didn't think she could if she wanted to.

"Ah, Relarn, Delarn," he said chuckling a bit to cover himself, "I'm so sorry I'm so late. I hope you weren't waiting too long for me."

"No, not really," she answered. "I haven't been here too long." It had been a couple of hours.

"Then it all worked out," he said with a grin, his straight white teeth flashing. She noticed the basket in his hand. "I knew you would probably want something to eat this morning, and perhaps you've already got that for yourself, but I thought a nice picnic wouldn't hurt."

"A what?" Delarn answered.

"Surely you know what picnics are?" He replied, his hand on his hip, his other holding the basket aloft.

"I mean I think I've heard of them, but I didn't think people actually did that sort of thing," Delarn replied, trying to keep a straight face.

"Of course people do that sort of thing. You and I are going to do it today," Talem answered with a grin, taking her hand and ushering her to her feet. "What were you reading?"  
"Just a story about a unicorn and a faun," she answered as retrieved the book and tucked it under her arm.

"Leisure reading? Quite an admirable hobby," Talem teased. "I'm sure if you've gotten that far into a book such as this one you might like to share it with someone."

"There aren't many people that actually read stories when they're recommended to them, and especially not like this one," Delarn answered.  
"Well, you may as well give it a shot just so you can't say you didn't try. I would read it if you told me about it," Talem joked as they walked.

They went south of the city, moving quietly and cheerfully through the hostile ogre lands, avoiding places where they might run into ogres. Once they found a suitably safe place, they set out the picnic basket, smoothing out the blanket and sitting together. Talem laughed, sharp stones and branches felt through the blanket, and Delarn found it somewhat amusing as they ate the bread, meat, and fruit he brought for them. She leaned against him to ease the pressure of what was under them and thought nothing of it.

"Do you really think we're going to find him out here? If anything he's probably somewhere between Ardougne and Yanille," she commented.

"Perhaps, but you'll always find something that'll surprise you if you look for things where you didn't expect them," he replied, smiling at her. He looked away for a moment before he said awkwardly—something that didn't seem quite right from someone as outwardly confident as him, "There's something I've been meaning to ask you, but I don't know how to word it."

"You can ask me anything," she replied without any hesitation, leaning closer.

"I wanted to know about the wolf. The thing you can do. I wanted to know how you do it and perhaps why," he asked her softly, sounding almost apologetic.

She leaned back a bit, appearing almost as if she forgot that he knew about that, or that she had suddenly become unaware of her ability to do that, though that was hardly the case.  
"You don't have to answer if it's too personal," he added quickly.

"Well," she replied slowly, thickly, "I don't really know how to answer you is all. It's something that runs in my family. It's something my father could do. I remember stories he used to tell me about our heritage and his homeland, but I grew up in Varrock, and he was the only one that I knew that could do it. I've had dreams about it. I've dreamt of my mother so vividly that you would think I knew her."

"You did not?" He replied. It was his turn to sit forward, his eyebrows raised curiously. "I'm sorry; that's incredibly rude to ask of you."  
"No, I really don't get to talk about it a lot. I—I guess I don't mind talking about these sorts of things with you," she replied thoughtfully. "I know that she died soon after giving birth to me. I know that she was a wolf as well and that they came from a country far away from here, over the sea. I know they came from the west. I know more people came with them, but they died one by one before I was born. I know that they have three gods, but the one that is important to our people is Radmund who created our kind. I know that I'm also human and must not forget that."

"You don't change into a wolf in front of people—because of these people that died before you?" Talem asked.  
"I suppose that's right. I also feel as if there's a lot of people that wouldn't take it as well as you have. I can't really be a wolf in a society that doesn't care for them and doesn't understand the mentality behind it. I know some people would find it outright disgusting or freakish and I don't want to be known for that," she answered quietly.

"Have you ever wanted to be rid of it?" Talem asked, his tone clearly showing how much of a tragedy he considered that she might. "Have you ever wished that it was gone?"  
"Wished it weren't a part of me any longer? Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier that way, but no. The thought of that feels like the same as killing myself without dying. Simply becoming blank. It isn't about being unique, but about it being an important part of my psyche." She gave him a heavy smile, feeling immediately vulnerable and uneasy after saying it. She started to sit up so that she was no longer leaning on him.

"But you don't get to change into a wolf often," he said, leaning in as if to close the gap between them. "I imagine you would like it if you were able to more. Is that too much to guess at?"

She sighed heavily and replied, "Not many people would want to see me that way if push came to shove. People tend to not like it. They treat me differently. They don't understand it. I don't want you to—I mean, it's not important."  
"I'm telling you here and now that if it's important to you then it's important to me and I won't make a fuss over it. I won't even mention it again if you don't want me to, but if you really want someone who supports you and supports your kind, then I'm here for you. Would you want to—I don't know? Would you want to be a wolf now, while we're away from the cities?" He asked carefully.

"Is this why you brought us out here?" Delarn said, her voice unreadable at that moment, and he appeared uneasy. It was strange for her to see him nervous.

"No," he answered slowly. "Well, perhaps. It's more of I wanted to spend more time with you. I hope you don't mind. But also, I wanted to give you the room to decide if you wanted to. To be yourself. I don't know. It's fascinating in a way, isn't it?"

"What is?" She replied as if she wasn't quite processing what he was saying.  
"How two people can meet each other and suddenly be this close," he answered with a modest smile. "Would you say so?"  
Delarn's eyes widened a bit and suddenly filled with a brightness that almost seemed teary. "Yes, it's very nice to feel that way about someone. It's a rare feeling, but I like it." She paused for a moment, looking away shyly, before asking gently, "You really want to see me as a wolf? You're not merely saying it because you're assuming I want to?"

"I would be glad to see you in any form," he told her solemnly.  
She gave him a strange smile, not knowing how to take it, before changing to her wolf form. He immediately grinned at her, at her dark red fur, and admired her golden eyes. He reached out to touch her, but paused, remembering what had happened last time he had gotten carried away. This time, however, she stepped forward so that her head rested in the palm of his hand.  
He laughed happily and cupped her head gently and rubbed behind her ears. It was an awkward laugh as well, not knowing how to treat her as a wolf, though she considered what he did do to be good enough and not too much.  
Everything felt sharper and cleaner to her. She could hear and smell everything, particularly birds alighting and taking flight in the nearby trees. Her ears twitched, and she turned to watch one intently until it flew away and out of sight.  
"Come," Talem said, his voice hushed, "shall we see what there is to see?" He stood, and she glanced at the blanket as he started to creep towards the trees, and he noticed the gesture as he looked back at her, waiting for her to take the lead. "That? Don't worry about that. It will be here when we return."


	13. Drugged Teeth

Before she knew it, Delarn had drawn ahead of Talem. She could not so much as see the bird, as feel it. That wasn't quite right. She could hear it, and she could sometimes make out its scent in places where it and many other birds landed. She hid her poor eyesight well. She didn't need it here. Everything was clean and precise here. There were very few things that she needed her sight to reveal to her.

She crouched down as a red bird landed in front of her. It was more of a blur, a crackling flame in her view as its wings fluttered slowly as if deciding if it was safe as if trying to guess whether or not there was a wolf nearby. Or a man. She felt almost hypnotized.

She heard a sound to her right and immediately identified this as Talem. It took her a moment to evaluate and reason out that this sound did not have a scent to it and that her Talem did not have the same instincts that would keep this bird settled in front of her like soft static on the ground. She immediately pushed herself backward, trying to shuffle away from where she was open and seen. She paused. Maybe it really was nothing. Maybe she had imagined it after all.  
Her fur was so red. Maybe the bird found kinship in her vibrant red coat, and that's why it didn't fly away, but to the eyes of her watcher, it was far more telling and far more revealing than the bird would have admitted.

It spread its wings and took flight at the sound of a steel twang to her right, and Delarn knew she had been slow and careless. She sprang forward as if she intended to catch the bird as if she had no knowledge of the man in the brush, but really she was avoiding the dart that was aimed for her side. She knew it was not for the bird.

Even so, it grazed her, and she could feel its poison seep into the wound with a sense of dread. She expected something dramatic. She expected to drop dead then and there, but instead, everything turned into static, and then glass. The world felt like crystal around her, too bright, colorful and sharp. She felt confused, but she felt scared as well, so she didn't wait to take a guess at what was happening. The motion of running usually felt natural, discreet, automatic, but now it felt strange. Each time her paws stretched forward to take up more ground it felt like she was an infant, reaching for a father or mother. Or uncle. Each time she felt afraid that she wouldn't be able to reach the ground with her paws and it would just float away from her.

She could hear screaming behind her, and the sound of dogs baying. The sound seemed to magnify in her ears until it echoed all around her. Maybe it was. She felt like she was running faster than any living creature before her despite the great pains in making motion, but she was also aware that maybe she was crawling.

She felt fangs dig into her shoulder and stopped, twisting about and screaming in anger. Her body ached with effort, and this made her angrier as she felt another dog bite into her back leg. With rage for her mortality and its inconsistencies, she tore into the nearest dog clinging to her shoulder, biting in deep and ripping it from her. She tossed it to the side like an empty sack and turned to twist around to get at the dog clinging to her leg, but it had already let go and was already running away. She felt satisfied, feeling that it was her doing, but the next moment the earth seemed to shatter beneath her feet as a boulder landed incredibly close to where she stood.

She could hear a man cursing and yelling, but he was far, far away and so was she. Despite how the entire world seemed to be destroyed to her addled, drug brain, with a towering and hulking figure battling with an imp, she didn't seem to mind or care. She stood and began walking.

Figures and creatures began walking with her before long. She didn't recognize them, but many of them felt familiar. Some of them looked like wolves like her and others were boys with cloven hooves, and others were colorful birds that swooped and bickered around her, some having more delicate wings than others.

The world behind her was cataclysmic with shouting and cursing, and she felt none of it.  
She reached the end of the land and stared out at the sea where a dragon waited. It was long and sleek and watched her with a strange smile that showed all its teeth. "I didn't expect you to come this way, but this will do."

"I can't imagine why you brought me here or what you expect me to do," she answered.

"I expect you to light a great fire. That's what you're known for, and it's what you're good at. You're good at lighting fires and heading away, and that's fine," he said.

"It's not fine," Delarn answered. "What if I don't want to go? What if I want to feel content for once?"

"We aren't all so lucky," the dragon laughed, though there was sympathy in his eyes as it flew closer and stood in front of her as a young man. It felt as if the change should have been dramatic, twisting, a show of lightning, but it simply was. Ronvile touched the top of her head, and she felt she might weep aloud. Though she was a wolf now, there were few feelings that she felt were wolf-like at that moment. "I cannot say you will not have what you want one day, but it won't be here, and it won't be now. Wolves are known for traveling great distances. I'm sure you'll make it there unscathed one day."

"That's not fair," she shot back, feeling anger rising in her. "I don't understand why I'm expected to suffer like this. I don't understand why I was brought to this place and shown kindness just to have it taken away from me again."  
Ronvile gripped either side of her face, clutching the fur in his hands and shaking her back and forth gently. It felt like an admonishment as well as comforting. "Don't you know everyone expects you to be a hero? What do you want then if not that?"

"Why can't I be both a hero and—whatever this is? Whatever I've gained here?" She asked, her fur standing on end as he continued to grip her and sway her slowly.

"You'll forget everything," he answered. "You're destined to forget. No, I don't think that's fair, but it's what you should expect. You should expect to be disappointed and if you aren't it will a pleasant surprise, won't it?"

"I suppose," she answered. The ocean was like crystal glass to her, but a moment later it seemed to shatter. The sheer volume and sight of the sea shattering like that startled her, and she pulled back and found herself slipping out of Ronvile's grip as if he wasn't holding onto her at all. His hands continued to hold where she had been.

"You have company," he warned with a sort of grin, though he already knew she was aware after such a disruption. She turned and standing there were two pinholes of dark blue that seemed to swallow the world around them and framing them was a being with orange fur that seemed to shimmer and shake like fire in her drugged mind. The living flame seemed so familiar to her, and at that moment his anger towards her made all the sense in the world, though even then she didn't make the connection.

"Help me," she whimpered. "I can't defeat him alone. I can't stop him on my own."

"Shouldn't you take responsibility for what was done?" Ronvile answered, once more a dragon, his tone low and precise, though it still held deep sympathy for her.

"I wasn't responsible for this. I had nothing to do with this," she murmured back pitifully.

"Don't you recognize that hair?" Ronvile prompted. "Haven't you ever seen those eyes staring back at you in the mirror?"  
"My eyes were born of many hard years," she answered breathlessly even as the beast stalked forward slowly as if in slow motion. Her heart beat quicker and quicker, whimpers escaping her.

"I would love to help you," Ronvile said finally, "but we're not in the same world. You're going to have to handle this on your own, but I promise you that there will be a day you'll see for yourself in which handmaidens will protect you. You'll have to simply come to terms with this in the waking world."

Delarn didn't have time to guess at what that might or might not mean. The moment the creature hit her it was suddenly a reality. The pain was real as sharp claws cut into her skin, but she was a wolf now. Her father had always told her not to fight as a wolf as it often put Lyalltines into a disadvantage they wouldn't have as humans. She launched herself at the orange beast's throat and clamped down.  
It didn't feel like she was biting onto flesh, but more like stone and her mouth ached, and it felt like her gums were starting to bleed as the creature grumbled, a low rumbling moan. It tossed its head back and forth a few times as if she was inconveniencing it even as her paws scrambled and slid against his chest.

She felt claws digging into her back, and she cried out in pain as she was dragged off and tossed against the ground. The beast darted up to her, fangs hanging over her shoulder as he hissed like water boiling over, "Father."  
Decari changed back to her human form, twisting about to be on her back, just barely able to avoid those snapping teeth. Her fist slammed into the side of the beast's face, and hot tears slid down her face. "What are you? What have I done?" The world still swirled around her in vivid colors and shapes, the drug not out of her system. The air around her felt like it was rapidly heating up and the next moment the creature was no longer there in front of her. Just a dark ceiling that seemed to be made of stone. She blinked briefly before realizing that she must have blacked out.

"Talem?" She said as she noticed a figure standing nearby, working on something. She felt like her nose was filled with smoke so she couldn't make out who they were with her poor vision.

"You're awake?" The person replied, and she immediately recognized their voice.  
"Telago?" She muttered. "I thought you were—"  
"You've killed a lot of people, haven't you?" He replied. "Not least of all your Lady Corivan."  
Her heart sunk for a moment and she opened her mouth to justify herself, but even now her memory was twisted of what had happened, and she felt nothing greater than shame, grief, and intense guilt. And then fear. She started to say, "I'm sorry. Please don't—"  
"I haven't brought you here to punish you. I've already made something beautiful out of what you and her have shared that will be more than sufficient," he replied in his usual monotone. "I've brought you here because I need a rival dead, and I know you're good at making it so."

"What she and I have made?" She answered, feeling lightheaded. "Is that what that is? What did you do?"

"I could tell you, but I don't think I will. I think you already know what Furlish is. That's his name. Did you think to name him yourself yet?" Telago answered nonchalantly. "It was only fair that someone was there to name him in birth. But will you do it?"  
"Name him?" She answered quietly.  
"Kill my rival for me," he replied. "Then you won't have to see or hear of him again."

"Your rival?" Delarn answered.  
"Your—yes, kill my rival and you won't have to worry about it for a moment longer," he answered.

"You'll fix it?" She replied.  
"What's left to fix?" He answered.

"You'll fix it if I kill your rival. You'll correct what was done," she answered.

"If you kill my rival? Yes, I suppose you could say that," Telago replied.

"Who is he?" Delarn asked fervently, desperately. "I'll do it, but tell me who he is."

"Oztraz," Telago answered.  
"We've been trying to find him, but we can't seem to figure it out. It sounds familiar, but I can't place the name. Was he from Ardougne?" Delarn asked, eager to know what he knew.

"He goes by another name," Telago answered, "so he isn't as easily recognized by the tower as they have threatened to take him off their lists many times."  
 _What did you name him?_


	14. Your Job

Delarn was urgent in the way that she returned to the tower, though it felt as if whoever had healed her wounds had sewn her together poorly, and her seams were straining. She tried not to think of that as the thought of literally splitting apart made her stomach churn and made her legs stiffen with dread. Once she arrived, she entered casually, as if nothing was wrong. She didn't look back or around, almost afraid that Furlish or someone else would be there. She had a nagging suspicion that she had forgotten something important. Even so, she didn't slow in her stride as she made her way to Glen's door. She knocked a few times, and he answered it. He immediately glared at her, but he also looked her over. She was a woman now, and she didn't miss how his eyes lingered. She resisted the urge to curse at him.

"What do you want?" he asked, clearly guarded.

"I wanted to apologize for how ungrateful I was after you saved my life and killed that monster. It really was rude of me not to thank you like you deserve," she told him.

"Like I deserve?" He replied slowly, his eyebrows knitting together.

"That's right," she replied, a shiver going down her spine. "Mind if I come in? I think it would be more comfortable for both of us that way rather than talking at your door."

He hesitated for a moment before finally opening the door wide for her to enter. She immediately felt as if she didn't want to, but knew she needed to. She stepped inside, and he motioned for her to sit on his bed as he sat in a chair across from it. She frowned, but sat down, thinking that it wasn't really a big deal. It still set her nerves on end.

"So what exactly did you want to say?" Glen asked. She took a deep breath. He didn't really look threatening. He looked confused and wary of her as if he expected her to act irrationally or dangerously. She considered that fair. It was something she had been known for. She thought that maybe she had imagined the way he looked at her when he answered the door.

"I just wanted to say that I really do think we started off on the wrong foot. I've been rather unreasonable and prickly, and you've been nothing but helpful and honest with me with your intentions," Delarn told him, "and I want you to know that I really am interested in your research and what you do here. There aren't many people that seem to have such a clear and direct objective with their research like—water magic."

"So what you're saying is that you're interested in me?" He replied slowly, his eyebrows raised as he folded his hands in his lap.

"In your research, yes," she replied, glancing at the door very briefly. He frowned and sat forward, and she continued so she wouldn't lose him, "I remember you mentioned your master was the one that sent in a letter recommending you study here. What did you say his name was again?"

"I don't remember telling you anything of the sort," he replied.

"You did," she answered, "when I first arrived here, and you were escorting me to see the head wizards of this tower. You asked me how I came to study here and then told me that your master sent a recommendation letter, for example, and you mentioned his name, and I may have forgotten it."

He was starting to frown at her, not merely because he considered what she was saying to be suspicious, but clearly, because he was beginning to connect that he had met her as a man and that she was rarely only one or the other for long, so he wasn't sure what she actually was. Delarn would laugh if she didn't feel sick to her stomach in his gaze.

She wasn't sure what he was going to say, but after a moment he said, "and how did you say you were accepted to study in the tower again?"

"I was," she began, starting to tell him that it was Telago now that she knew it was him who had sent the recommendation letter, but then she realized that might be dangerous to admit to him. "I wasn't sure who sent me. That's what made it so weird to me that I was taken in," she answered honestly, that being what she remembered telling him. She went on to say, "It's a shame because the master that sent you seemed so influential and I felt a bit underwhelming not having anyone to speak for me or any real reason for being here. I don't know much about the magical world at all, really, and I was hoping to know his name as he sounded like someone great."

Glen seemed to stand a bit taller, prouder, as he replied, "My master is rather great. His name is Oztraz."

"Oztraz. I wasn't sure if I remembered that correctly. It would have been a shame if I hadn't," she answered.

"So you did remember it?" He replied.

"It would have been careless of me not to," she admitted, really feeling it was careless of her, "though I'm glad to know that I was right."

She casually, carefully reached for her belt and his eyes immediately went to her hand. Of course it did. He was still studying her as if he thought that he might have guessed precisely what she was and what she could be to him. She felt like cursing him then and there, but she couldn't, not with how her wand was too far out of reach. It wasn't quite a magic wand, but it was a yew wand and it would have to do.

She batted her lashes at him and smiled as she said, "Tell me the truth, what is your name really? Is it Glen, or are you the powerful wizard, Oztraz himself?"

He stiffened, and it was clear to her that she had been correct, but she was afraid that she wasn't going to be correct with the way he was going to react to her knowing. As far as she knew, she was an annoyance to him and perhaps an idiot, but she was hoping that he would think she was the kind of idiot that he could trick in turn.

Finally, he responded, and though it was positive, she still wasn't sure it was preferable. He stood and moved closer to her, and she continued to mess with her belt under her cloak in an attempt to free the wand even though she dreaded encouraging him.

"So," he said, "What if I were to tell you I was? Would that be enough to impress you after all? Was it simply that you weren't interested in me as a simple water mage?" He asked, a smirk quirking the edge of his lips.

"I wouldn't say that," she said in an even tone that didn't suggest interest in him beyond his research, "but I have heard quite a bit about you if you are actually Oztraz and not his student, though I'm sure even a student of his would have quite a bit of interesting information to offer."

"I do have a lot to offer indeed," he answered, not seeming to listen to what she was saying as he stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. She didn't know what clicked in her mind, but she felt suddenly, sharply afraid, the room seeming to sway and smell like sea salt. Maybe it already did. It was supposedly the research he had been studying, after all.

He leaned in, and she pulled the wand out too quickly, jabbing it forward as she tried to recall the keyword. She could say it mentally, so it didn't matter if she said it aloud or not. She wasn't sure she could say anything at all aloud as his other hand went to her hip. She wasn't sure if she recognized the exact moment the tone had changed to this, and she wasn't sure if she had missed those cues or not, but she knew she was here. She had intended to make it subtle, make it so he didn't know it was pointed at him at all, but the wand poked him in the stomach, and he recoiled. He immediately realized what she had, though she thought momentarily how amusing it would be if he didn't. He reached down and grabbed it and sharply turned it away.

It was now parallel to the both of them now, but he was quickly starting to turn it to face her stomach instead. She still didn't feel safe, but she at least perceived that his intentions had turned from lust to murder and she thought she could deal with that far better. He tried to wrench it from her hand, and she was surprised at how strong he was. She expected him to be physically weak as a wizard, though she wasn't letting it go and he wasn't gaining any traction on it. However, he did manage to aim it at her stomach. He didn't know the word, but even then, it was still registered as being held by her.

That didn't necessarily matter. There was a definite part of her mind that felt the wand pressing towards her own stomach and wanted to say the word. It was a disgusting and strange feeling that was like thick sludge that she didn't know how to clean away, and she tried as hard as she could to keep her mind clear as the wand and his body pressed against her and forced her to consider all the destructive ways this could go.

It felt like their struggling would last forever, but it was ended suddenly as he punched her in the stomach and shoved her backward. She curled up in pain as he was definitely stronger than she thought he would be and she couldn't quite aim the wand until he was well out of the door. She groaned, struggling to stand and gripping her stomach as she tried her best to recover and glad that she hadn't come after him as a man after such a blow. She powered through it, knowing that he was getting further and further away each moment and if she waited too long she would never find him and she wasn't sure what that would entail.

She raced out of the room and just barely caught sight of him ahead, turning the corner. She didn't want him to get out of sight as she was aware that he was just as likely to teleport if he got the chance, though something in her gut told her that he wouldn't. She gripped the wand tightly in one hand and dragged herself quickly through the hall with the other, turning another corner and seeing him still ahead of her. She would have been able to take the shot, but the wand and the spell attached to it wasn't that strong and was meant for close range. It was a safety precaution, Telego told her, so she wouldn't be tempted to shoot him in a place where everyone would see her and know it was her as she would most definitely be in danger if she were trapped in the wizard's tower as a known murderer. It didn't matter much to him either way, but he would prefer if she lived to let him know Oztraz was dead for certain.

She followed him, coming closer and closer to catching up to him until they reached the double doors where the three head wizards dwelled in their day to day tasks. He slipped through, dragging them closed behind him and she reached for them and froze. She felt her stomach freeze into solid ice as a wave of anxiety struck her worse than any punch. She reached for the door handle and stopped, trembling, her hand not seeming able to come any closer. She thought for a moment that this must be a trap or a spell, but she knew better. This was her own mind that did this to her, and she couldn't figure what to do about it.

A hand touched her shoulder, and her eyes widened, and she turned, shoving the wand forward, her mind twisting like thorns, but all thoughts and actions came to a halt when she saw that it was Talem. It was clear he wanted to pull her closer, but he was wary when he noticed the fear in her eyes that was just now starting to ease, but like coals cooling rather than as if they were losing their heat altogether. She let the wand drop to her side as she carefully stepped to stand closer.

"Where were you?" He asked softly, gently, "What happened to you? I heard the dogs, and I wasn't sure if you were even still alive and now I find you here." He wrapped his arms around her the moment that he knew it was safe to do so.

"I don't know who that was or what happened, but I do know that someone called on me to do a job for them and it's very important that I do it," she replied softly. "I found Oztraz, and he's on the other side of these doors, and I can't get the door open. It's not locked, but I can't do it myself."

Talem ran his hands through her hair gently to comfort her, and she felt like crying as it was so sweet and kind. He said, "Is it really your job to do? Is it really something that my Delarn needs to do? Can no one else do it?"

"Your Delarn?" She answered, breathlessly. "I think so."

"I didn't check myself. I didn't mean—"

"I think I am, I mean," she answered softly, "but I also think I need you to open this door for me. I think that even if I don't want to do it, I've come this far and I don't want him to get away now that I've done all this."

Talem held her tighter and she looked up at him. It was no longer in her hands. She didn't consider that a bad thing at all.


	15. Tower Attack

Talem rested his head on Delarn's shoulder as he hugged her tightly and murmured in her ear, "I do not believe this is something that you're meant to do, that you're the only one meant to do it, but I know that it would not sit well if I denied you this. Are you certain?"

"I don't know," she answered, "but we're here and the longer we take discussing it, the more likely he'll get away or something worse."

"I'll be here with you," he said softly. "You're not going in alone."

She nodded, and he reluctantly let her go and turned toward the door. He took the door handle, and before it was completely open, she was already squeezing through. Her face was red, and she didn't quite want him to see how flustered she was.

He called out to her, the door not quite heavy, but heavy enough that he wasn't right behind her and he wanted to be.

"There she is. She's been infiltrating this tower for all these months. I tried to warn you, but I just couldn't figure out who it was," Glen-she couldn't see him as anyone else at this point-said to Reffalk, the only head wizard there at the time. "She's responsible for the monster that's been wandering around Yanille at night as well."

"Is that so?" Reffalk said, bristling. "I knew there was something strange about her when I heard rumors of her wandering the halls with that young man that we brought in recently. That man has something terrible about him—a terrible fate. It's a shame he's been so misguided."

"Terribly unfortunate," Glen answered, pointing at Delarn. "It's best if we take care of her now before she causes any more damage, don't you think?"

"I believe so as well," Reffalk replied, pointing his wand at Delarn. Talem heard what had been said and held back so she could retreat as she started to backpedal. She wasn't fast enough, and a beam of light arched across the room and struck her in the chest. She gasped as something was wretched from her, being dragged out of her like a thread, her knees growing weak. She did her best to remain standing upright. She thought she was dying, so when it was over, and she wasn't dead, she felt relieved and timidly resolved.

As Glen also saw she wasn't dead, he lifted his want to point at her as well, and her eyes were drawn toward the motion, and she took another step back. Reffalk noticed as well and reached out to hold Glen's wand in his shaking hand that would assure it wouldn't shoot straight. Delarn couldn't make it out from here, but she already knew that Glen was giving him a terrible look and she felt suddenly afraid for him as well as herself as Reffalk said, "That won't be needed."

"Please sir," Delarn pleaded cautiously. "You've made a mistake. I'm not a threat, and I'm not an intruder. You've been misled, and you must give me a chance to speak for myself."

"Then lay down your wand and step forward and we'll have a hearing for you to discuss what has and hasn't been said," Reffalk answered.

Delarn head went from one man to the other again and again as she started to crept towards them. Reffalk was calm until he realized that she still hadn't laid down the wand that she had been clutching at her side. "Put down your wand," he repeated.

"Not until he does," Delarn barked back, shaking as she could make out the wand pointed at her still with a red, dim light glowing from its tip that seemed to shiver with the effort of being aimed.

Reffalk seemed to notice that Glen still had it raised as well and looked up at him. Glen immediately said, "See, she's trying to trick us into lowering our guards and taking her side. Are you going to let her?"

"We don't need to use any sort of violent force against her. She's going to put down her wand if we do, won't she?" He asked, looking at Delarn. She stopped and looked at Glen again, her eyes wide, uncertain how to respond to that.

Glen responded first, catching sight of Talem who was slowly making his way closer behind Delarn, intending to catch them by surprise. He wretched the wand free from the old wizard's grip, shoving Reffalk to the floor. The old man cried out, and Delarn could hear something break in him, a snap of bones as he must have broken something. She thought little of her next action, pressing forward and intending to help him.

"Delarn!" Talem cried out as Glen shot off his wand and its red light hit her. This time she didn't feel anything, and she froze, fearing the worse, but Glen frowned as from his perspective he could tell that nothing had happened to her and he wasn't sure what the wand had done as he had borrowed it from Reffalk, to begin with. He began reaching for his runes, intending to freeze her to death instead, but paused. He could see figures starting to take shape, incorporeal beings that appeared to be much like animals that were beginning to form in the corners of the room.

"The guardians," Reffalk rasped, whimpering in pain. "If she hasn't a place here, they'll find her."

The beings, appearing as little more than shades of light and smoke, moved toward her, walking across the ground as if on solid paws or feet, the creatures of all shapes and sizes. She stared in horror and tried to rush for Glen, but he moved back quickly and shoved her hard against the shoulder before retreating toward the far door where the high wizards stayed in the tower. She started to chase after him, but Talem pulled her back.

"Look," he hissed. "They'll corner you. We need to go."

The beings were, in fact, coming closer and closer, and Talem was dragging her back towards the door they came from as they started to lope after her, twisting and turning in disturbing patterns, as if hungry to catch her. She looked back at where Reffalk was on the floor, hoping that maybe he would be able to stop them, but he didn't seem to be moving anymore. Talem shoved her through the door and slammed it behind them quickly. Even then, the figures appeared to simply ooze through, though they definitely seemed slowed by the barrier.

"I've been in the tower for a while," Talem told her. "They won't enter a resident's room even if they're being hunted. We have to go back to yours as they'll come after you in mine."

He looked at her expectedly, expecting her to take them back to her room, but she was confused and disoriented and didn't make a move. There were too many doors around her to know which one to go through. Talem then was aware of what happened and began leading her along instead as the beings were almost about to form on this side of the door. He closed as many doors between them as possible between there and her room.

"I don't understand," she said, uncertain as to why she couldn't find her way.

"That first strike must have been to take away your sense of direction in the guild. I can't imagine what that slippery serpent told him, but I know that it must have been enough to turn Reffalk from you," he answered.

"He seemed reasonable enough," Delarn replied.

"Perhaps," Talem answered, turning for a moment to close another door, "but that just means that he was curious about your destiny. Certainly, you seem to have the lion's share, no?"

After a moment even she started to recognize their surroundings as they came upon her door to her room. She was almost afraid that it wouldn't be the same, would be sealed against her, but it opened. She was glad this was a door that she felt welcome opening. He gently pushed her in as soon as it was opened as she seemed a bit stunned and confused still. He entered quickly behind her and immediately closed the door behind them, knowing that they were cutting it close.

The guardians, a moment after the door was closed, screeched and slammed against the door so that it vibrated threateningly. Purple and blue smoke oozed around the edges like when they went through the other entries, but this time they came no farther.

She turned around and watched past him. After she knew she was safe after a long, long time staring at the door, Delarn let out a breath and whimpered softly.

"Delarn," Talem said, and it startled her as it was louder and harsher than she expected. Her eyes were wide and startled as she looked directly at him, and he seemed to stumble for a moment before plowing on, "that was absolutely reckless. You were shot twice. You could have died twice. Do you realize that?"

She nodded slowly and replied, "Yes, I know. I could have. I never really thought of the-"

She paused for a moment, considering what she was trying to say.

"The consequences of dying? The chance that we could have lost you?" Talem put in, his hands folded.

"No one really—that is to say that usually—people didn't care before," she said, trying to justify herself, tears starting to brim in her eyes.

"There are definitely people that care whether or not you die," Talem told her sharply. "I care. Am I not enough or would you like me to say the other woman does as well—Reeva. She cares very much about you. Would you care if one of us died?"

"Of course I would," she answered quickly. "I wasn't thinking. I just thought—please don't be mad at me. I know I don't think about others. I know I don't know how to—"

Before she finished, he was hugging her again, rocking her gently. It felt much like when Ronvile was doing it when she was a wolf, but there wasn't any admonishment in it despite what he had been saying to her.

"I don't mean to upset you, Delarn," he told her softly. "I just want you to be aware that there are people that care about you. You're not a tool, and you're not meant to die like this. You shouldn't have to, and definitely not alone. In fact, if I knew you would let me, I would do it all for you myself."

"That's not fair either," she answered. "I would be worried about you too. I would be more worried about you than I am about myself. Please don't. Can't we do it together? Evenly?"

"Yes, evenly," he answered softly, "but you have to remember that we're acting evenly. You can't stand in the way again or leave me behind. You have to remember to let me help too. Can you promise you'll do that for me?"

She sniffled, and said, "I can't promise that. I can't promise you anything like that because you're so important to me and I don't know how I'll act when things start happening again, and I don't want you to be mad at me."

"I won't be mad at you," he promised. "Just do your best for me, will you? Just take care of yourself so I can feel just a bit more at ease."

"Of course I will. I always do my best one way or another. I haven't died yet. I can't imagine dying if I'm honest." She smiled weakly at him, "but I've seen plenty of people I've come to care about die. Please don't blame me for being a bit less careful with my own life."

"It's funny," he told her softly, murmuring it in her ear, "I could say the exact same." He laughed and hugged her a bit tighter, feeling almost sorry that he did as he could feel her tearing up –he knew what that felt like quite well.

"I'm so sorry I haven't known you sooner," Delarn told him, her voice cracking, and Talem suddenly felt a bit teary as well. He opened his mouth to answer, but the next moment they felt the tower tremble. It trembled again and both looked nervously around the room, wondering if they should leave or stay. He immediately let her go and went to fill the basin with water to start a scrying pool.

"I thought you didn't know how to do that," she said as she went to join him quickly.

"No, I do know. I simply do not typically care to do it. Watching things and people from afar does not appeal to me," he replied with a genial smile, wiping his eyes as they peered into it and the image of the outside of the tower began to form. Great winged beings that were more snakes than dragons seemed to spawn from dark clouds that were forming above the tower. From those, lightning struck the tower, and that's what appeared to be making it shake. It didn't look as if it would destroy it, but it did make it seem as if it would be too dangerous to leave, the air crackling with a strange grey and gold haze. They could see people on the ground scrambling to take cover as the winged snakes dived and barely missed them with their reaching talons. Another heavy bolt hit the tower, and they braced themselves as the tower shook again.

Talem swallowed heavily and looked at Delarn, already feeling as if teleporting out was no longer an option. "It looks like we're not going anywhere quickly. It looks like someone definitely should do something about that."

"Perhaps we should wait and see," Delarn answered casually. "Why should it be our problem to solve?" She took a deep breath and Talem watched her as she went to sit on the bed, and after a moment he shrugged and smiled delicately, going to sit beside her.


	16. Choose Sweetly

Delarn had expected the night to be long, with how the lights flickered erratically and the tower trembled as if it might crush them to death at any moment. Sometimes she imagined it would destroy them all equally, and sometimes she believed that it would only kill her and Talem. At any point of the night, she really didn't care as they laid close together and talked. There was definitely a lot of talking, and she never imagined she would ever be able to talk to someone like this. It almost got to the point where each time the tower would start to tremble, they would laugh about it. Talking would never be enough to describe the night they spent together.

"There are some things I want to do that I simply cannot try as a man," Talem explained to Delarn, his voice husky as he whispered it in her ear. "We may as well do it before the morning if we're not going to be sleeping."

The plan was to avoid him being seen by anyone that might recognize him as a friend of Delarn, anyone that might be looking for her after Glen had exposed her, wouldn't recognize him for who he was. He explained it with a grin on his face, and Delarn, her eyes bright and eager, considering him quite clever and more knowledgeable than any man she had met prior, agreed. They had managed to fall asleep eventually, Ray holding Talem close against him.

Despite how she seemed to be wearing a disguise, she slept close to Ray as well, her head resting on his shoulder. They slept late despite the urgency of the task at hand. Ray didn't consider anything more urgent than this even when he naturally woke up before Talem, and before long fell back into a restful sleep before Talem finally woke up herself.

"It shouldn't be hard to find what happened to Reeva if she did succeed," Talem told Ray, laughing at herself in the mirror as she combed her hair straight. Ray watched her, tracing scars that he had found on her back by memory. He felt a bit giddy and confused, and it took a moment before he could manage to speak.

"Right, of course. I'm sure she'll be a bit upset that it took us so long to get back to her. I wouldn't be surprised if she thought we were dead by now. Being dead doesn't sound so bad all in all. I think we'd have a bit more time that way," Ray hummed.

"Perhaps she was right," Talem teased, glancing at Ray from the mirror. It took Ray a moment to realize what she meant before he quickly turned to face the wall. Talem laughed shrilly, finding it adorable to see him so embarrassed. "I'm sure if she's not wandering about somewhere nearby, she'll be easy to find in the library or that little shop. She won't be far at all. Before I go, I wanted to ask you something important."

"What is it?" Ray answered, still not facing her.

"How far are you willing to go for all this? I really can't see what you have invested in this tower or in this country. I feel as if you could really shirk all responsibility for any of this and be perfectly fine. What do you have to lose if you fail here compared to if you succeed?" She asked.

"You're asking if I would rather save myself if it comes down to saving everyone or just myself?" Ray asked.

"I suppose if there's anyone else important to you, you might be tempted to save them as well, but have you ever considered that you're not meant to be the hero not because you're not heroic, but because it's simply not your problem?" Talem asked honestly. "Have you considered that you don't deserve being sacrificed for people that don't really care for you? How many people who have asked you to put your neck on the line would weep for Delarn?"

"I suppose you're right. I suppose when you put it that way there aren't many. I think I know one person alone that I could rightfully say I would regret not giving myself for," he answered quietly.

"Delarn," Talem said slowly and carefully, "If you should find this person on the line, I would much prefer you save yourself. That's what I would do."

"Would you?" Ray answered thoughtfully. "I wish I could be more like you." He laughed a bit and added seriously, "If you wouldn't mind, could you promise me that if you ever are afraid that I might not be doing something in my best interest, that you won't betray me? Even if you know, by all means, that preventing me from going forward would save my life and I'm giving it for nothing otherwise, will you please promise me that I won't ever have to doubt you?"

Talem paused for a moment and replied, "I'll tell you if I think you're being a fool, but if you really want me to enable you to do something I don't agree with, at least let me tell you that much."

"I don't mind if you tell me outright that you don't believe I should be doing something or even say that you would prefer to prevent me from doing something, but please will you promise not to get in my way? If you trust me enough to tell me the truth, will you at least trust me enough to allow me to go through with what I'm going to do if I'm feeling so strongly about it that I'm not listening to you?" Ray replied.

"I fear you'll already be lost at that point anyway," Talem said quietly, softly. She didn't seem to notice that Ray had turned back to face her, or perhaps she didn't realize that even with his poor vision he could make out far more in the mirror than he would ever let all.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Ray told her softly, sitting and standing to move closer, his head tilting to the side.

"I'm not," Talem started to say, but stopped for a moment before continuing, "It's just that I don't think I've met someone quite like you before. One moment you seem so young, and other times you seem absolutely indescribable. Even now, with that worried look on your face. I want to wipe it away with a smile." As she said it, she looked at him over her shoulder, smiling at him, though he could tell she was tearing up a moment ago. Even then, he felt strangely warm to see that look on her face, and he couldn't help but offer a quiet smile himself. The moment he did, she exclaimed, "See! Just like that."

"I have to admit, it's hard to take you seriously like that," Ray chuffed quietly, amused.

"No? I don't think it suits me either, really, but I think I suit you either way," she answered, winking. Ray blushed and looked away, and she laughed, "Please, my dear. You're so darling when you do that. Though I wasn't lying when I said this is best. They won't even notice me if I'm like this. I also doubt they'll notice you. Even knowing what they do of you, they're more likely to be looking to catch a woman. You're quite more than that, I believe, though definitely no less."

"Yes, I believe you're right," Ray replied and paused. "Before you go and get Reeva, and before this whole thing begins again, would you mind telling me something about yourself? Anything?"

"Well," she replied carefully, her smile growing a bit crooked as she looked up into his golden eyes, "I was an orphan from a young age. I spent much of my time as a performer before I was captured by slave traders. I spent much of my time being forced to do things I did not want to do for people that didn't care for me. I said to myself, 'Talem, you owe no one anything' and I said that I wouldn't do it ever again. Not for anyone. The funny thing is that it gets caught under your skin after a while, though with the right person—I think it's all worth it. Do you consider it all worth it, Delarn? Do you really want me to fetch her or do you want me to do a little trick for you and get us far away from here? _For you?_ I'll do anything."

Ray considered long and hard. His head tilted to the other side slowly. "Will you give me one last kiss before you get her? A promise that we'll both survive this and never have to do this for anyone else ever again. I think I want to do it, but for myself for once, because I want to see it through."

Talem sighed quietly, looking longingly at Ray, simply wanting to be away and see him safe, but she knew the kind of person he was already and knew he would never be content. "Alright, my dear," she answered. She leaned up, and they kissed. It was slow and tender, and as they embraced. It felt like an eternity in paradise before it was over.

"That was a promise, was it not?" Talem asked. "Keep it."

Then they were apart, and she was gone. Ray stared at himself in the mirror and saw that the image was blurry to him. He wiped his eyes.

Reeva, when she returned, frowned at the two of them. She didn't believe for a minute that they weren't playing some sort of game with her, being reversed as they were, even when Talem—through choked laughter—explained to her again and again that it was necessary in order for Talem to be able to get out of the tower and find her at all. Not that she was far. She had been wandering the halls, trying to find her and Ray. The guardians weren't interested in her at all though she was the true intruder in all of this, and so she wasn't bothered by their searching, slavering behavior. They passed her by, and she passed them by.

"I'm supposed to believe that you waited this long simply because you thought it was for the best?" She finally asked.

"No," Ray answered simply. "Not for the best of the greater good anyway. I personally considered it best for myself. Talem does as well."

"That's right," she replied, still grinning widely.

"I suppose neither of you found someone with animal eyes?" Reeva asked.

"I have animal eyes," Ray answered. "What do I need to do?"

"The beacons are lit now, but I don't know how much longer I can keep them lit," she replied. "You have to get to Oztraz as quickly as possible and complete the spell. If you have eyes of an animal, you'll know what to do." She scowled at Ray, and he didn't doubt she doubted him.

"Will I?" Ray replied. He shook his head. "Oztraz is at the top of the tower by now, I imagine. It won't be simple, but I think I can manage."

"With an old spell system like this one?" Talem commented. "Between the two of us, it'll be easy."

"He ought to go alone," Reeva said solemnly, "for the best results."

Talem looked at Ray for a moment, and Ray answered nonchalantly, "I'm not looking for your best results. I'm looking for mine, and I believe it will be best if I have Talem at my side."

She pursed her lips but nodded slowly. "If it's how you wish for it to be done, then I can't blame you, just as long as you stop this madness and return things to how they used to be."

Ray nodded, going to open the door and looking at Talem to make sure it was safe for him to exit, but before Talem could say anything, Reeva told him, "I was glad to know you," and opened the door to walk past him and away from the tower. The guardians didn't yet recognize him, so they didn't yet stir.


	17. Race to the Top

Ray and Talem walked together down the hall. As they thought, the fact that they had switched had thrown the system off and though they could practically feel the magic around them readjusting as if attempting to make sense of what it was missing since the figure it was hunting was clearly not gone from it.

"It was a good idea," Ray hummed, feeling particularly warm to have someone walking beside him to praise that was equally looking out for his best interest. The idea was astounding to him. He couldn't shake his guilt about what happened with Rosana, but the contrast made it sting less and less each day, and he was sure one day that it would simply be a memory. He didn't intend to see Telago ever again as well.

"It wouldn't have been possible without your potion," Talem told him with a smile, feeling along the wall in case they might have missed something, and so nothing could phase through and surprise them.

"It's nothing too special," he answered, listening intently for any physical enemy. "I technically stole it from someone, though it did take a bit of tinkering to figure out how to make it myself. Are you familiar with the makeover mage over by Falador?"

"The what? An interesting sort, I imagine," Talem answered, "but what does a makeover have to do with this?"

"He—or she—can change a lot of things about a person. They're constantly changing themselves. I would say they're a useful person to know, though my memory of what it was like to meet them and what it was like to take the potion from them is blurry. I can't imagine I would want to cross their path again anytime soon," he replied.

"Can they change hair?" Talem asked curiously.

"I don't think so, but isn't that what barbers are for? There's a barber in Falador as well, but you can imagine I wasn't there long enough for anything like that," he answered with a grin. He had already told him about how Lyalltine rarely cut their hair unless it was to show great disgrace.

"Yes, that's fair enough," Talem hummed, "but I like the red hair myself. I was thinking of trying it out. I just might after we finish this."

"I personally like your blonde hair, but if it's what you want, I can get behind it," he answered. He froze for a moment and looked around, catching sight of something behind them. The incorporeal, purple creatures appeared clearly even to his poor eyesight, and so it wasn't hard for him to make the growing forms out. Talem, Ray and the creatures all stood still and seemed to study each other, the beings seeming to study Ray before deciding that this was who they were looking for.

Ray turned to his wolf form and Talem put on the rabbit mask at nearly the same time, and they sprinted the rest of the way towards the door, struggling not to skid into walls as the purplish smoky forms of the creatures chased at their heels like snapping hounds. The creatures were moving so quickly that they were nearly only blurring on either side of Ray's vision. Ray was almost relieved that he was indeed at least as fast as Talem's mask, but he also had to admit that if this were a proper race, he would be hard pressed to keep a lead.

He also felt a strange joy in the thrill of loping alongside Talem like this, even if it was being hunted rather than hunting, and he was eager for all the things they would and could do after this was all over. There were no wizards in the hall at this point. There were none who would bear witness to their speed and wise creation. He looked forward to asking Talem all sorts of questions and learning all kinds of new things about both him and himself in whatever form he may take.

And then they reached the door. Talem was already reaching for it, expecting his companion to struggle, but the moment Ray reached it he changed back to his human form and seized the door's handle. He knew that whether or not he was meant to cross this threshold, he could put it behind him once it was over and done with. Talem, watching through the mask, grinned widely and clapped for him in absolute delight and pride. She had to step back, however, as the purple figures caught up as well. They weren't interested in her, but in Ray, and she had sorely forgotten this.

The magic seemed to crash into Ray before he was properly through the door, and he gasped sharply. It hurt badly for a moment before he was able to roll clear of it. It wasn't quite gaseous—if it had been, he was certain it would have killed him by now by entering his lungs—but it was fragmented enough that it could straighten itself out into tendrils that sought to be sharp-edged and dig into his skin. Already he was bleeding in many places from small cuts that he barely avoided turning into deeper and more fatal cuts.

It came towards him like water, waves, taking the form of hounds when it was still before dashing towards him again and turning into a wave that threatened to crash over him, slamming into the stone each time he rolled out of the way. He growled lowly, finding that nothing he did was quite good enough to plan a proper counterattack, and he knew he couldn't simply keep dodging out of the way without attacking back forever.

"Delarn, are you okay?" Talem called, having trouble seeing him through the eyes of the mask as it did make it harder for her to see in exchange for the speed and sense of hearing and smell it offered. When he told Ray this sometime during the night, he joked that it was much like how he was. Talem hadn't quite realized just how blind Ray was until they discussed it the night before but was grateful for his years of experience in navigating without perfect sight. Following Ray had made navigating this far so much easier.

"I'm fine," Ray answered, even as he dodged another slamming wave that tried to drive him against the wall, though he managed to roll out of the way and around it, backing away, so there was much less wall behind him. "Just a bit scratched up, but fine."

"I can't stop the guardian, but if you can manage to keep staying out of its way until you're over here, we can slip out of the room. I found the door," Talem called, desperate for Ray to get away the longer she watched him, though she admired how Ray seemed to dance out of the way every time.

"I think I can manage that," he replied, already navigating towards her voice.

"Watch out!" Talem called soon after, seeing something that Ray had missed, but too late and he stumbled over it. It was Reffalk's body. No one had come back for him after Ray had escaped and Oztraz retreated, and Ray had to imagine that he died sometime during the night. He wanted to believe that it was gently in his sleep, but he couldn't get the idea out of his head that he had suffered.

This was lying on his back after falling. The being, sensing Ray faltering, flew forward as if to spring on him, jaws forming full of sharp and pointed teeth. Ray resisted the urge to kick out or to immediately rise, simply flattening himself on his back against the stone. He watched in wonder as the guardian went over him, trying to seize onto a being that was no longer there. It occurred to Ray that it couldn't see as well, but it was a poor time to form a kinship with it. Instead, he didn't move, and he barely breathed, slowing down his heart. He felt as if he was submerged under water again, watching the surface grow further and further away, looking at its underbelly. He was completely aware that with it over him like this if it decided to drop down on him he would be smothered and likely cut to pieces, but all he could do was wait it out.

Talem watched as well, uncertain of what to do and finding it incredibly frustrating, imagining briefly that perhaps this was why Ray preferred to be left alone if he was going to be in situations like this in which no one could help him. After a moment, however, the being moved past him. It seemed to dissipate a bit as if it didn't think that Ray was close enough to be on the offense anymore. Ray slowly turned around so that he was on his belly for a moment before changing into a wolf. He slithered on his belly, pulling himself towards Talem slowly by his paws, his ears back as if waiting for the being to realize that he was once more in the room, but like when he initially left the room as a man, it didn't seem to register that he was the same person. He realized that the thing didn't actually strike him when he was a wolf running either, though it was clearly fast enough to have caught up and attacked him as he could remember seeing it in the sides of his vision.

Talem was relieved, opening the door for them, and closing it softly and quietly once they were through, though the being didn't seem to notice or stir towards them anymore.

This tower felt almost too claustrophobic, stairs spiraling upward. Ray looked up them and then back at Talem before his tail wagged quickly, and he made a humming noise. Talem couldn't help but grin as well when she realized that they were clear of the guardian and were ever closer to Oztraz. They could both feel it—that terrible and murderous energy that the man was giving off from casting his terrible spells at the top. It was like fresh air and flowers to feel it so strongly, knowing they were so close to the end and being done with the tower and its obligations. Talem took a moment to wrap her arms around Ray and scratch behind his ears, and his tail only wagged harder as he buried his head against her happily.

He didn't stay like this for long, though he wanted to. He pulled back and looked up at the stairs again, rubbing on Talem just a moment longer before taking a few steps up them and looking back at her.

"Yes, I agree. We should definitely get going even if you do have soft, beautiful fur," Talem commented, and Ray's tail continued to swish. He wasn't sure how he felt about being complimented as a wolf, but he found that he appreciated it all the same. He then started the trek up the stairs. It was understood that he was staying as he was because he didn't want the guardian picking up his scent again while they were on these precarious stairs with no proper rails on the sides. Even so, he found that he enjoyed the climb as a wolf. It felt easier, though he figured if he needed to go back down the stairs it would be easier as a human.

"I imagine the old man had a specific spell he used to get up there in his old age," Talem commented, trying not to fall behind—though Ray was definitely waiting for her even when he seemed to be drawing ahead. "Because I can't imagine him walking up stairs like these every single day with his room at the top, though I doubt we would have figured it out in time for it to be worth it."

"I agree," Ray answered, changing back to his human form when they were near to the top, reaching down to take Talem's hand which she accepted gratefully. They arrived at a door that was inscribed with intricate runes. Ray's eyes seemed to widen in horror as he looked at it. Talem gently but firmly took his arm when she noticed his reaction.

"Delarn?" She asked gently, even as he stumbled back from it, eager to get away.


	18. Remember Me

"Delarn, there's nothing to worry about. I'm here, and I can remove the enchantments quite easily," Talem told him, not quite understanding the way that he backed away from the door. Talem then began working on it, and it wasn't long before it was rendered inert, the magic removed from the door, but when she looked back, he seemed to have only gotten worse. He was crouched down with his hands over his head, trembling. Talem walked over to him and got to her knees so she would be level with him. "Dear?"

Delarn struggled desperately to get free, but she couldn't breathe or speak. The syringe went in, and she tried to scream, but her throat was raw.

"Don't you understand by now how futile it is to fight against this?" The gnome asked as he studied her face for a moment before the incision he had made. "It doesn't seem to be healing as fast as it was a moment before. It's so hard to tell with your kind. If there were more specimens, we could say for sure, but you'll have to do."

Delarn whimpered weakly, mouth gaping against like a fish.

"I suppose you're bound to fight it anyway. You're a wild animal by nature. Even with all this logic and knowledge handed to you, you really can't reason out of it. You're a child as well so I can't expect you to have the kind of logic that an adult would possess. If you were an adult? Perhaps you would have accepted that this was happening by now and laid still. Do you think your father would have if I had been clever enough to hold him down? Of course, there's always the factor that you wouldn't simply lay still if you thought you could get away from it."

"Of course," the gnome concluded, "Your people are creatures of habit. They don't quite have the free will a proper human would possess. You have no other option but to learn further and to breed and to needlessly put yourselves in danger. It's just in your nature. I've heard that the ones that aren't so driven would have never made it here, to begin with. How unfortunate for you. If you were born anywhere else, then perhaps you wouldn't have had the chance to be treated like this. Where were you born? I suppose you can't answer if you can't cry out, can you? That's fine. Just lay still, and this will be so much easier on you."

The tiny child couldn't help but follow behind her. She was so tall and elegant and particularly unwilling to have her follow. It just made the game all the more fun. She couldn't disappear forever. Did she not want to play?

When she was gone,, she would settle under the king's feet instead. She would always come back to him so there were no worries that the woman would disappear forever. This man was so freezing, but she was feverish, so it was fine as far as she was concerned. She would babble stories at him eagerly, but she didn't know any words yet so these would have to do. She grinned at him, reaching up for him. She always felt so tall when he lifted her up.

Whenever her father would come back, she would race to meet him, eager to see him again. He always seemed a bit unnerved to see her, and so she would stand on her back legs and stare at him. After a moment he would thaw out, and he would pick her up. He would tell her all sorts of things about where he had been. He would smell worn out every time and sometimes he would bring something back for her, usually meat. When he brought meat, he would have to chew it for her at first.

By the time she could chew it herself he was saying things like, "I can't take being here anymore. I'm tired of living where I must think of my love every day. I want to go away. Would you watch her for me?"

"You won't watch her yourself? You're the one who made her, aren't you? Why not take some responsibility for that?" The person said. She couldn't place the person.

"She reminds me too much of her mother," he replied weakly, but he was staring at the floor. He knew this person was right. He had to take a bit of responsibility for what was done.

She was on the floor at the time, playing with something, but the next moment she was on her feet and trying to follow who he was talking to. She was proud because she didn't have to be a wolf to follow them anymore.

Before she could reach them, her father's arms wrapped around her. She squirmed a bit, wanting to get to them, but it was also so rare for her father to hold her like this. She stopped resisting and cuddled into him. She looked up at him, and she could see his face so clearly. Why was he crying? She didn't understand, but she thought she would ask the lady what it meant when someone cried like her father was crying.

She hadn't seen her since.

Delarn leaned far forward as she sat on the bed, her arms over her head. She really didn't feel particularly panicked, but it felt as if all her senses had been drowned out as well. It felt like there was absolutely no room inside her but raw nerves. The floor seemed to shift and change beneath her rapidly, and she felt nauseous. Her eyes were open, but if she moved an inch everything around her seemed to spin and swirl.

There had been a storm for the last few days that the _Seven Sea Bears_ desperately tried to navigate. It was an effort for all the crew, and when she had first heard that they were heading for a storm, she had asked to help.

"No, I don't want to risk losing you," she was told before being told more bluntly, "and you don't have any real experience on a ship. You'll get in our way."

"I would have experience if you would let me," she had countered.

The strike that Beraliska delivered nearly sent her staggering off her feet and her face stung as she was dragged off to the captain's quarters. "Does it hurt?" Beraliska asked, brushing her cheek with her thumb before shoving her to sit on the bed and bending down. Delarn flinched at the sudden movement, flinching worse than when she expected her to strike her and she really had. Beraliska didn't touch her at all. She merely clamped the iron cuffs around her ankles, meticulously checking to make sure they weren't too loose or tight. She would have them on for a while, after all. "You'll be safer here," she told her gruffly before leaving her there.

For the next few days, Delarn found herself mostly alone in the twisting, tossing storm. Sometimes Beraliska would be there for a moment, sitting there beside her and eating and feeding her quickly before going away again. Delarn struggled to keep it down in the storm, but she managed it because she knew that once this was over and Beraliska had time to return to the room, she would punish her viciously if she threw up any of it up in her bed.

It was nice when she came back and sat beside her. It was terrifying and lonely, and she was glad she wasn't up above now if it was so terrible down below. Everything was nailed down, so nothing moved, though the room itself moved constantly and violently.

She closed her eyes tightly. The storm was settling down, but her nerves weren't after being here for so long. She gave a few nervous sobs, almost wishing that she was on deck now, doing something. Anything to stop the violent feeling in her stomach and head, though she couldn't deny that there was a part of her that felt that if she were on deck, she probably would want to toss herself over the rails to stop it.

She hadn't noticed Beraliska entering the room this time, though her figure towered over her and the door seemed to slam like thunder as she wasn't so interested in being quiet. The storm was nearly past, and she was no longer needed to keep order on deck. The giant woman shed her boots, coat, and captain's hat. Even then, she was soaked through, but that didn't seem to bother her so much as she pulled herself onto the bed.

She didn't say much of anything, merely settled in the middle and reaching to carefully tug Delarn back. Beraliska did few things gingerly or carefully, and so it was a bit startling to be dragged back like this, but at the same time she was powerful, and it was easy to pull Delarn back and into her lap without disrupting her too much. She laid stiffly in her arms like a stunned bird that had fallen from the sky before slowly easing to lay back against her. Beraliska wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her as close as comfortably possible, resting her chin on Delarn's shoulder and closing her eyes.

"You're freezing," Delarn managed to say, taking a few long, slow breaths.

"You're warm," Beraliska answered in return. She snuggled against her, rumbling. Delarn had been startled by this when she had first done it because she thought she had been growling, but after a while, it was clear that it was a content sound. It was a relaxing sound and meant that she wasn't in a bad mood, so Delarn particularly liked it. Delarn began to hum as well, finding that being close to her like this had chased much of the anxiety she had felt away.

"I really love you like this," Delarn told her softly.

"Cold and tired?" Beraliska growled back, but Delarn knew that she wasn't in one of her dangerous moods, so it didn't faze her.

"Holding me like this," she answered. "I love when you hold me like this. I love when we have our quiet moments together. I love how powerful and in control you are."

"You won't believe me, but I love you too, Wolfwood. More than anything else, but I'm a captain of a pirate ship, and you should know by now that I take what I want however I want it. You understand that, don't you?" She answered.

"Imagine how much more I could be to you if you would simply let me go and trust me to return," Delarn answered.

"You would never return," Beraliska hissed, "because you and I both know that you're my property. I don't merely love you; I own you. You're mine alone. Not even you can have you."

"I know," she answered softly.

"And besides that," she murmured quietly in her ear, "you know that there's a part of you that loves the struggle more than any freedom I might give you."

"I know," she said again, softer than before.

Delarn sat with her mother under a tall, shady tree. Her mother's golden eyes gleamed as she leaned over her daughter and went about braiding her hair. She told her softly, "When I held you in my arms as a crying babe, I never really knew what you would become. I had so many plans for you, but I knew I wouldn't see them through. I thought I would see you learn how to shoot a bow like the man that first welcomed us to the homeland, or I thought you might learn to wield a spear like the fierce women in the colony your uncle housed us alongside. I never would have guessed that my daughter was a fire keeper. My father always said my mother was something unworldly, but I never would have dreamt it."

"A fire keeper?" Delarn asked, trying to move her head to look back at her, but her mother shoved her had forward roughly, teasingly.

"No matter what you are, you're something special as far as I'm concerned, and that's all that matters. Don't be afraid to do what you need to do, my dear girl, my lovely boy," Loro, her mother, told her.

Ray looked up at Talem with tears in his eyes when he came back into himself and replied softly, "Sorry, I don't know what happened. How long did I keep us?"

"Delarn, I would sit here for the rest of my life and longer if it's what you need. Are you sure you're fine?" She replied.

Ray nodded and stood, going slowly towards the door. He started to reach for it but paused. His forehead creased in concentration and finally, he opened his mouth. Talem watched curiously for a moment before a cone of flames shot from his jaw and engulfed the door completely, erasing it from his path.


	19. Never Change

Glen was sitting at a table that was placed by a window where dark clouds were circling, flashing of lightning of all different colors appearing outside. He seemed to be peaceful and harmless, a platter of food beside him and a teapot, and this looked like any other person enjoying their midday meal. He looked over at Ray, smoke still seeping from his mouth, his throat a bit raw despite performing the spell correctly in a way that would protect him—he would be dead if he didn't—and his mouth creased in contempt. "I see that even when you've come to face your clear end, you still arrive before me in that form. It's really just such a waste. We really hit it off, I think, when you were a woman."

"I really can't imagine what you mean by that," Ray answered, croaking a bit before clearing his throat. "I don't remember a moment in which you didn't have some outlying motive even when we were getting along, and that's really a shame because I honestly did enjoy your research and the things you were doing with water. You could really have made lives easier and better with that sort of research. This? I don't even know what this is."

"This is a new world," he answered. "A world with creatures that contain powers beyond your or my dreams. New people and new life."

"And what do you plan to do with it? What possible benefit could you possibly gain from bringing beings from that world into this one?" Ray replied, "You can't even seem to manage the people already in this world."

He then realized that Talem wasn't beside him and he looked around to see her standing as if with her hands on a glass wall. His eyebrows raised for a moment and Glen commented, "I haven't been able to do anything with it, really, since that spell was put into place. I've been trapped here, though I figured you knew. I thought you might have known or maybe have been the one to cast it since you were able to walk into it, but now I think I know what's happening."

"What's happening?" Ray asked, not really asking what was happening, but questioning what he had said.

"You're an important part of the spell. You're some sort of animal, though I haven't figured it out yet. Your magic gives off that sort of aura, but I didn't know what it meant. I suppose you think you're here to stop me? That might be true, but I can assure you that I've already been stopped, and now you're going to finish it, aren't you?" Glen asked. "If you don't, Yanille is going to be destroyed, and nothing will be able to stop that. I know I can't stop it, trapped as I am."

Ray turned to face him again, and this time he realized he could see five points in the distance, through the walls, that formed a pentacle where they stood. It enclosed them in a neat triangle, and he could practically see where the lines intersected on the floor. "What if I decided not to stop you? What if I chose to walk away?"

"Yanille would be destroyed likely, and undoubtedly it would spread without me to control it," he replied. "I, however, won't say you shouldn't walk away. It would probably be for the best if you did."

"I won't," Ray replied after a moment, seeming to be deep in thought and slow to answer.

"You don't seem so certain. Did you come up here not knowing whether you actually intended to stop me? Is there some other reason you wanted to see me?" Glen grinned at him. "I get how you wouldn't want the guardian to catch you, but couldn't you have tried a bit harder than that to come here in the right form?"

"Shut up," Ray answered, marching forward. "I wasn't certain because I wasn't sure if it was my problem or not, but I realized that regardless of what I do or say, it's something that I need to do. Helping people is something I'm proud of even if I've felt as if nobody needs me and I've done a poor job of it up until now. Now? I'm almost certain that I'm needed."

Glen stood, his hand moving to his belt as if to pull out a wand or any kind of weapon really, but Ray's hand was already on his face, holding him from the top of his forehead in place. The moment they came into contact with each other, he could feel the five points flaring to life as the spell began. He realized that he wasn't quite the one that was performing the spell, but he was the catalyst. His golden eyes were bright and sharp as he stared into him, like twin topazes.

Outside, each point seemed to grow brighter. They were placed around the city of Yanille and a fire seemed to rise up from each point before convening towards the tower, but from Ray's perspective, it felt like the energy was rising up from his own body. He felt much like a lamp, both as if he was meant to contain a vast amount of energy and release it.

"You know, Ray," Glen, Oztraz, commented. "I don't believe you understand what you're doing. I don't think you understand the full weight of what role you play in this. They needed an animal to seal me away in, something that was considered thoughtless and empty. I'm sure she mentioned something like an aviansie, but I doubt the creator of this spell cared whether they were sentient or not. She just knew that it needed to be something that was capable of seeing both this world and the other world."

Ray could see fire rising up outside, blanketing the city, though it didn't seem to destroy anything. He worried that if it wasn't harming this world, it was damaging the other, but even then, he could see nothing that was destroyed on the other side. It felt like it was manifesting somewhere in between. Even now the clouds were dissipating. Glen gripped his arm with one shaking hand, steadying himself as he felt his essence being dragged out of him. Ray hadn't noticed, but he was changing himself. He was growing bigger and stronger, his hands becoming like talons and his teeth growing sharper. He was becoming as much a being of the other world as this world, and wings were starting to form on his back.

Still gripping his arm for support, Glen pointed past Ray towards Talem. She was desperately trying to get through, but once more she found herself helpless and unable to get through to Ray. "I don't think you know what you stand to lose. Do you see her? You're never going to see her again if you go through with this."

Ray, despite himself, turned to look at Talem. The moment he did, Glen took his chance. His fist slammed into Ray's stomach, and all his connection to the other world and the spell suddenly severed. The spell was interrupted, and the fire outside crackled violently, angrily, as if denied something it was promised.

His face snapped back towards Oztraz, and the man smiled bleakly, his soul already beginning to slip away, already twined with Ray's essence. "It wasn't enough, but at least I know that you'll forget and suffer as well."

The wizard's body collapsed, and a moment later the magic snapped into Ray's body all at once, and he was falling forward. Ray's eyes were wide as he stared at Talem who was beating desperately at the barrier that had become red before everything disappeared altogether.

Talem covered her head with her hands as she fell flat to the floor through the barrier. The next moment the roof was gone, and she was left lying there alone. She rose, and it took her a moment to realize that both Glen and Delarn were gone. A strong magical surge had gone through the room, and it was only her strong instincts that protected her from the brunt of what had swept through. Her mask fell from her face in pieces, and she stared at it forlornly, but only for a moment before looking for the companion she had lost.

"Delarn?" She called hoarsely, looking around as she brought herself to her knees. "Delarn, where are you?"

She looked up, and all signs of destruction were gone. There were no ominous clouds and nothing worth noting. The entire world seemed intensely calm, and the sky was a bright blue.

She immediately went to walk down the stairs until she was rushing down them, two and then three at a time, rushing to find anything that proved that what had happened had really happened. She went to Delarn's room, hoping that she might be there or there might be some sign that she was still around. She felt a hot pain in her chest when she went there and found it completely empty. There were no signs of anyone having lived there, not even a single red hair. She felt more and more afraid as she scraped and pushed the covers on the bed around. She then went on to Glen's room. She had expected to be rejected, but when she got there, she found that there was no sign of him being there either, no sign that he had existed at all.

The panic only grew as she left the tower quickly, went into town. She had hoped to find Reeva, but she doubted she was still in town. She paused, feeling intensely unnerved as it felt as if something was watching her. She turned towards what it seemed to be, and her heart nearly stopped. Furlish stood there, his deep blue eyes piercing into her. He was in his human form with his gaunt body and tuft of orange hair on his head. He stared intensely at Talem and then looked at her stomach. He seemed to swell in size for a moment before reverting back to his human form. He tilted his head and turned away, agitated in some way.

"Please don't go. Tell me where she is," Talem called to him.

Furlish looked over his shoulder for a moment before replying with a monotone, "no," before continuing on his way.

Talem was at a loss for words but let him go away. He knew he had to find Reeva. There was a moment in which she had no idea where she might be, and then she knew exactly where to find her.

He entered the little cafe, and she glared up at Talem. "Why do you still look like that?"

"Where is Delarn? What did your spell do to her?" Talem asked desperately.

"The spell failed, but it also got rid of Oztraz, so I suppose that's all that really matters at this point. The creatures from the other side haven't come over either, so that's fine," she said.

"But what happened to Delarn," Talem demanded.

"I imagine she's gone," Reeva replied. "The spell failed. I told you to get a being with animal eyes. Neither of you took what I said seriously. What can you expect?"

"You didn't tell us what the spell would do," Talem yelled at her. "Just tell me what it did to her."

"I can't imagine what it did to her. It was merely meant to set Yanille ablaze. It was meant to purge the ties between the two worlds so a man like Oztraz couldn't use it to do evil again," she answered. "I don't know why you both thought it was wise to use her as a catalyst, but I suppose neither of you were completely honest with me either."

"Are you saying she's just gone? What if the spell hadn't failed? Would she be fine now?" He demanded.

"I don't know," she replied, unbothered by his tone. "I merely intended for it to banish Oztraz for good. The spell failed. She failed to complete the spell, but it got rid of Oztraz anyway. What else can I say?"

"Can you say that she's still alive?" Talem asked softly.

"She could be," she answered.

"Can you say you care for what happened to her? That she was a friend of yours?" Talem went on, desperate.

"Friendship is relative," Reeva answered before answering softly, "I do hope she's not dead. I can't believe she's dead."

"I don't believe so either, and if you don't believe it as well then that's good enough for me," Talem answered. "I'm going to find out what happened to her and we're going to get her back."


	20. Meat Hooks

Delarn, when she woke up, felt sick and dizzy. It wasn't that she was sent far, but she was sent far enough out of the city of Yanille to be confused about her surroundings. Even when she had gone out with Talem, they hadn't gone to this part of the jungle-like wilderness to the south of it. When the spell had failed, it had changed her back to her base form, and that meant that when she woke up, she was a wolf. She felt scared that perhaps she was only a wolf now, so she wasted no time changing back into her human form. She didn't know that she was being watched.

A few moments after she changed back to her human form and sat up, a man sprang upon her. She considered it a miracle that her red scimitar was with her now when so often she had forgotten it in her room when she had been living in the wizards' guild. She reached for it, but it was too cumbersome, and she couldn't pull it free from its sheath before the man could grab her wrist and force it behind her back, taking her head and slamming it against the ground.

"That's what I thought you were. You're a shapeshifter, and there aren't many of those around these parts. You thought you could hide from me in there, but you were sorely mistaken," the man cackled triumphantly.

"I don't even know who you are," she croaked out, her throat dry, and she coughed a few times.

"You don't have to know who I am. I know who and what you are," he answered. "You thought you could get away from me the last time by running me into the ogres, but you were wrong."

"That was you?" She replied, still struggling to catch her breath, facedown and squirming in an attempt to get out from under him or at least into a more comfortable position so she could clear her throat and get more air into her lungs. He made it particularly hard with how he planted his knee into her back. "I didn't know about the ogres. What was that you used on me?"

"You think I'm going to tell you? I'm going to kill you. To be fair, it's hardly a hunt, watching you until you woke up, but you did plenty enough hiding to make bagging you like this worth it. You even changed in front of me. You think you're getting away from me after that?" He hissed, but it was strangely affectionate, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

Delarn wheezed a bit and replied shakily, "If you're going to kill me, then you may as well tell me."

"A hunter like me doesn't need to parlay with prey," he said, starting to feel along her side. Delarn began to panic and struggle, and he laughed wildly, seeming to find that all the better for him until his knuckled raked across the right ribs and she changed beneath him. She cried out sharply, a shrieking yelp, as it was particularly unpleasant to be forced to shift with him crushing her like this and holding her arm—now a leg—back like he was, though he had released it in favor of gripping her head in both his hands.

"Atta girl. That's what I wanted. None of that talking business." Delarn struggled weakly just a moment longer before he smashed her head into a rock that had laid beside her face a moment before.

Delarn took a few wheezing breaths when she woke up. Blood dripped from her jaws, and she felt like she had at least one cracked rib. The blood dripped in red strings from her maw to the ground. She was still in wolf form, hanging from a hook that was impaled through her legs. She struggled not to make a sound, fearful for where he might be. He wasn't here, but he was definitely close, she thought.

She couldn't be sure, but she was so afraid of it that it might as well be so. She also didn't know how long she would be alive. She was surprised she had woken up at all and hadn't merely died like this. At this point, she wondered if it was some god that was watching over her, or if she was made of something stronger than she thought she was. She knew even she wouldn't live for long if she stayed like this. She could feel the blood rushing to her head, and she was sure she would pass out again or else pass away.

She twitched a few times, swaying back and forth from where she hung until she realized that even if she did manage to get herself free, she would have to be human to properly do it. She changed to her human form and immediately struggled not to scream out in intense agony. The hooks through her feet sent pain like lightning striking through her, and the possible broken bones moved in such a way that made everything go white hot. It took a moment before she realized that she may have blacked out, and she didn't know how long that had been. She tried not to curse herself and the pain that still plagued her as she feared even more so that she would be discovered like this and he would know that she wasn't dead.

At the very least, he may not know that she would definitely be a wolf if she had passed away. Even if he didn't know about that, he would see that she had been alive long enough to change back into her human form and might come to check to see if she was actually dead if he returned. She tried to swallow the bile that sunk to her throat when she considered the bloody mess that her legs would be in, but there was nothing she could do to stop it, and along with the blood it fell out of her mouth slickly to the floor.

There was little left in her, and she could barely muster any energy, but Lyalltines had an innate ability to push themselves past the stamina of a human or wolf when in this sort of danger, though there was a certain level of panic past this that would surely kill her. She took a few deep breaths, staring at the far wall and trying to ignore how deathly ill she felt, hanging there like this with so much blood loss.

She reached calmly for her sword, which thanks to the leather sheath had shifted with her, much like her clothes tended to do. She took it out gradually, making sure her numb, bloated hands would hold the blade properly, and it wouldn't merely fall to the floor. Once she was sure she had a good grip on it, the blade swishing slowly back and forth like an extension of her arm, she reached up and slashed at the chain holding her feet. It took a few tries. The blade hit the metal noisily and made her sway violently.

She immediately felt sharply nauseous, and the sword threatened to slip from her hand, but she managed to keep her grip. A sort of sharp, pained laugh escaped her lips as she considered that this was much like a party game and she was the prize. With that absurd image in her head, she managed to swing again forcefully, playfully as if attempting to impress the sadistic woman she was. Like a masochist, she laughed sharply again when she felt the blade nick her own leg though it hardly bled at all. She took one last desperate swing, and it hit hard against something. It didn't feel like it cleaved through bone, so she didn't think it mattered all that much.

The blade was knocked out of her hand, but a moment after she fell heavily. She just barely managed not to land on her head, and luckily the blade didn't gouge into her either though it could have easily landed on her or her landed on it. Instead, it fell beside her, and she stared at it and grinned dumbly as she laid in her own vomit and blood. The floor was cold. She thought that lying there in her own fluids would have felt warmer, but she guessed not. There was a part of her that wanted to take her victory as it was and lay there and die.

She couldn't remember where she was or who she was supposed to be or why it mattered that she lived. She remembered vaguely that there was a woman in Ardougne that might be missing her, and she thought maybe she could return to Varrock to return to building rapport amongst her fellow Zamorakians, but both of those things felt like too much work. One felt like empty pleasure, and the other felt like bloated ambition. She didn't care for either. She just thought it would be better to die here. She felt sharp heartache as well, and she didn't understand why. She couldn't picture an afterlife if she died here, and she didn't know how to feel about that.

She thought that all her gods would likely turn her back on her if she died like this, and that made her heart start to beat with defiance. She wanted to turn her back on them first, so they didn't get the chance, and she knew if she reached the sea, she could do it. She took the sword and slid it slowly back into its sheath and then tried to stand, but her legs were mangled. She stared at them for a long moment and laughed hard and heavy. If the bastard who had done this to her was close enough to hear she hoped he would hear her. He had earned this, hadn't he? If she was his prize, then he could come and finish what he started, right?

She changed to her wolf form and dragged herself from the room. Her fur was sickly, coated in piss, bile, and blood, and her eyes and nose stung. She could barely make out anything in the way of smell from her own diseased pelt. She pulled herself on her front paws until she found a door. She changed to her human form and screamed out loudly this time, gripping the door handle to hold her up and keep her from fainting before tearing it open. Whatever greedy god or bloodline that kept her alive would pay dearly for what they had done to her, letting her live like this for so long.

She came into a nice living area, and she immediately caught all sorts of different smells despite her own rank scent, but one was particularly clear to her. She dragged herself up to one of his shelves and could see a few darts that were freshly made, and she scrapped a few of them on the floor. The pain of being upright was excruciating for even that amount of time, but she surprised herself by managing it at all.

She pulled one of the darts towards her and held it up to her eye to study the edge. A grin spread across her face as she then scored it across her arm, not stabbing herself with it, but making sure a bit of the venom got into her bloodstream when it was slid across her arm. She felt a cool numbness go through her, and she thought she might have killed herself, but at least it didn't hurt anymore. She was surprised with how anxious the thought that she might be dying here made her, and it was enough to push her to try to drag herself along and keep moving rather than to wait to die. She was almost grateful for a clear sign of her need to live through the self-destructive act.

She dragged herself to the door and outside. She laid down under a tree that grew in front of his house, her back pressed back against it. She felt warmth starting to return to her, though at the expense of the tree that slowly began to wither. She knew she was taking too much life from it, but the feeling was addictive. She whimpered and squirmed at the sensation of her flesh knitting together and her blood pumping again. And once more things were starting to look strange to her as not only was blood being carried easier through her veins but the venom.

His home was surprisingly close to the water so she could make out the sea. It looked much like a sheet of smooth glass, and she was sure, as she used the last of the tree's life to sew her feet back together, that she could simply walk over it back to the lands she knew.


	21. To Rest

Delarn, despite coming this far, could only lay there for a while, watching the water. Despite how it appeared to be glass, it also seemed to move in a sort of stilted stop motion. She blinked slowly for a moment before slowly working on pushing herself to her feet. She knew it would be a long journey and she would have far to walk, so she figured she ought to start now rather than put it off.

The moment she was on her feet, tender and new, she screamed angrily. The agony was terrible enough, but the pain made her unreasonably angry above all other sensations. She leaned back against the tree, and it felt as if it was merely a husk in its death.

"Another friend dead thanks to me," Delarn rasped out, her eyes closing. The moment they were closed she felt as if there were two people on either side of her holding her up. She didn't open her eyes yet, knowing that when she looked, they would be gone. Finally, she leaned forward, standing without the support of the tree, though it still felt like people were holding her up. It felt like there were more than two now and they were whispering encouragement.

"The sea loves you, Faewulf daughter. Don't you know? It won't let you die."

"That's funny. That's how I wanted to die. Are you saying it was all pointless, coming this far?" Delarn responded.

"There's nothing pointless about your life, Delarn," another voice piped up, scolding her. "You're going to be the mother of a great generation. Do you doubt it?"

"I can't imagine I deserve to be anything of the sort," Delarn answered, "let alone that I will be."

"But it's true," another voice said before the others took up the chorus of, "It's true! It's very true."

"You'll be safe," The first voice said as they helped her slowly towards the water. "The sea loves you, and you'll see the other side of it."

"I was cursed once," Delarn answered. "I was told that I would be hated by the sea as long as I should live."

"And yet you were the one that survived," Another voice laughed at her. She was certain that these beings around her were going to drown her for fun.

A harsher, human voice called out, "I'm surprised you managed to get out, let alone that you're still standing. I should have known that something like you wouldn't be so easy to kill. Not that I won't enjoy taking you out again."

Delarn opened her eyes as she turned to face the hunter, her lips pursed, and as she thought, she could no longer see the figures that were holding her up.

"Oh, I'm sure it will be a good hunt," Delarn commented as she walked back toward him. It didn't feel as if her feet here touching the ground at all at this point. She felt like she was floating over to him, and the way he looked at her made her feel as if that were true. His face was scrunched up in a mask of uncertainty. He was not used to being the one hunted.

His crossbow went up, but he didn't fire it, watching and waiting. Delarn didn't flinch and didn't alter her path, continuing to slide towards him.

He showed no indication of what he was thinking or feeling until he dropped the crossbow as she was finally close enough. He had his hunting knife in his hand and slashed upward at her throat, expecting to catch her off guard, but she was already prepared for something like this. This time she already had her scimitar in her hand, held to intercept his stroke before twisting her blade to shove his knife away. She hoped to wrench it from his grasp, but he moved with the motion, keeping his grip on it.

He attacked her with a series of lightning fast strikes that she barely managed to block close to the hilt of her sword, moving back slowly with each blow. It was clear he had the advantage as she couldn't keep up with his sturdy, compact hunting knife with her scimitar without leaving herself wide open. He laughed wildly as he tried to score scratches on her face and striking hard against her blade just to let her know that he intended to.

Each step was agony, and she felt angrier and angrier the longer this went on, but she managed to keep her calm as she found herself backed up against the dead tree with an audible smack that brought him to cackling as he knew he had her. He raised his dagger and plunged it forward. She waited patiently, making no move to intercept him this time.

The dagger sunk into the wood of the tree and Delarn was now on the other side of it. The way that everything seemed to dance in her vision made this obvious. The tree was dead and weak and would feel none of it. She placed her hand on the back of the tree as the hunter worked to free his hunting knife and she sent a wave of kinetic energy through it. It was enough to topple it.

The tree fell forward, and to Delarn's eyes it happened slowly, but that was only the venom in her system. In reality, it happened extremely fast with how she slipped around, how he tried to free his dagger and how the tree was forced to fall a second later. It fell forward and crushed him to death.

"A deadfall trap," Delarn said casually as she stared at what was left of him. "I never imagined using one of those before."

She shrugged solemnly and walked towards the water. Already the waves were starting to show beneath the glass, and she thought she should hurry in case she lost her opportunity. She walked slowly, tenderly, until she wasn't walking slowly, but moderately. Then she was going from walking to sprinting into the water.

It was freezing cold, but compared to how much it hurt to stand, it was nothing. She was a bit surprised as she was aware that despite the water being solid glass, she was walking through instead of on top of it. It grew harder and harder, but she kept going. The glass eventually went over her head, and she stared up at the sky for a moment before everything became dark.

She woke up on the shore of Rimmington, shivering with cold. A man was standing over her, and he leaned down and offered her a hand. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," she answered, trying to remember where she had come from or how she got there. All she could really remember was the city of Yanille on fire, and a sharp pain struck her head for a moment. She grimaced and took his hand and let him help her up.

"Are you sure? That doesn't look like the face of someone who's okay," he answered.

"I'm perfectly fine. It's nothing I can remember," she answered plainly.

"Oh, good," the man said. "Then I hope you know that after being missing for all these years you're still going to be under arrest."

His grip had tightened on her wrist, and she stared at him balefully now. "I don't believe I want to go with you, sir, but I understand you're just doing your job. Please release me, and I'll head away, and I won't commit another crime again for as long as I might be allowed."

"That can't be allowed. You've proven to be unstable and dangerous multiple times. I don't think you understand that we have eyes over there as well," he said in a monotone. "You disappeared into Yanille for a time, and you didn't seem to have been causing much trouble, but even then, we've recently gotten a major reading of destructive magic from there. At the very least, allow us to take you in for questioning."

"I can't do that. I can't remember anything that happened in Yanille. Believe me, I want to know what happened there as well, but I can't say I know anything about it," Delarn answered, "I refuse to be held again by people that won't let me go."

The man tried to pull her closer to restrain her as he was now aware that she wasn't going to go in without a fight. Instead of pulling away, she moved towards him the moment he started pulling her. She slammed her forehead into his nose with great force.

He hadn't expected this and immediately let her go to nurse his nose, a bloodied mess. She moved forward and gripped his sword, tugging it out. She could have killed him with it, but instead immediately started running north towards Falador. She knew she would be in danger of being spotted by more people, but she thought she could escape him and anyone else backing him up if she went through the city rather than heading back towards Lumbridge and Varrock.

She immediately went through the southern gate, but she paused there for a moment, cradling the sword she had stolen with a blank expression on her face. It was strange to be here again, but she didn't wait too long. She felt he would be right behind her, and she knew that she couldn't risk being recognized.

She walked briskly through the streets and past people that gave her uneasy looks, noticing the blood smearing her forehead, though not stopping her. A hand rested on her shoulder, and she turned quickly to face them.

"Do you remember me, Delarn?" Her heart stopped when she saw that it was Colsen and her eyes filled with tears. She was sure that even now he was dead.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, shaking her head slowly and backing away. She then turned and ran. Now that she was running people were starting to take note of her, the blade she was carrying freely in her hand and the blood that streaked her forehead. There were shouts for her to stop and many of them were people asking her what was wrong, or if she was hurt, but they all sounded hostile and murderous to her. She was sure not even one was there to help her, and so she kept running.

No one stopped her from escaping through the northern gate. No arrows found her shoulder as she ran. Nothing was there to prevent her from getting away. That didn't stop her from fleeing into Taverley. She considered going back to her home, but she feared that they would look for her there first.

A voice seemed to be compelling her, leaving a sharp pain in her head, and she kept going until she was racing away from an invisible enemy over the steep stones of the White Wolf Mountain. She had done this feat before. She would be able to escape over the mountain and start again. She considered that she could go north, live as they did, and this filled her with a sense of hope.

She pulled herself over a rock, and it began to pull away under her weight. She tried to get a firm grip on it, tried to pull herself over it, but the next moment she was falling backward along with the stones. The breath was knocked out of her as she hit the ground below and then the stones followed, covering her.

The old wolf god sighed as he held Delarn in his hands, weaving a nest for her between the stones. There was little he could do for her at this point but keep her alive. He plucked the pain from her mind and sealed things that she wouldn't need. He covered her in a thick blanket to keep her warm and keep her from aging. She would serve him better this way, in a future where she wasn't alone, and where she hadn't aged. The four children she had would not suffice.

"You're going to be fine, Delarn," he sighed as his gentle influence settled over her. The last thing she could remember before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep was Yanille ablaze and a face that was quickly fading from her memory.


End file.
